


Come Together

by jellybeantarot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Angst, Animals, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Healers, Hufflepuff, Mentor Severus Snape, Out of Character, POV Second Person, Potions, Slight Dumbledore Bashing, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Teacher-Student Relationship, because he deserves it, canon snape is a prick, don't expect anything for a while, its just in second person so it looks like that, ok but not when shes a minor, only a tad, slooooww burn, tags say snape/reader but its really not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 43,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellybeantarot/pseuds/jellybeantarot
Summary: ~ he say I know you, you know meone thing I can tell you isyou got to be freecome together, right nowover me ~It's 1982. You are Rosaline Knight. You are a Hufflepuff, a muggle born, and you're determined to befriend the Potions Professor, no matter how much he protests. Warnings for puns and too many song references.Cross posting on Wattpad under the same username.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 78





	1. prelude - the millennium

You weren't sure why the Sorting Hat placed you in Hufflepuff.

Everyone you knew in your house was sweet, always willing to help, and considerate to everyone around them. You were the opposite. You frequently made snarky comments, sassed your teachers, and you were quite loud and somewhat self centered. It was like chaotic evil vs lawful good.

You were the subject of much gossip in other houses, but especially your own. Hufflepuffs questioned how someone so... _Slytherin_ could be in their house.

Okay, you did have some close friends, and you did typically complete your assignments on time and made sure to never genuinely offend anyone. It was just in your personality to respond to life's problems with a pun, and question _everything_.

Maybe that's why you and the Potions Professor got on so well.


	2. mr. bad guy - freddie mercury

**September 1982**

"Silence, class!" A voice boomed from the back of the classroom.

A tall man with a billowing black cloak strode to the front of the room. You tried to hold in your snort. He looked like a bat.

"I will not tolerate any tomfoolery in my classroom. Potions are very beneficial to the average witch or wizard, and it takes delicate precision and accuracy to create even the most simple of potions. You will follow my instructions with reverence, and you will proceed every lesson with caution," he said, surveying the class.

Most students looked terrified, but you weren't so easily shocked. He couldn't be more than 25, yet he was teaching such an exact science? Do they even require teaching degrees at this school? You rested your chin on your hand, looking at the professor with an eyebrow raised.

Of course, he noticed the one student that wasn't nervously staring at an empty parchment or their quill. One side of his mouth upturned in a reluctant smile, but he ignored it and you for the time being.

"My name is Professor Severus Snape. You will address me as Professor, Professor Snape, or sir. Today we will be discussing the basic principles of potions, and chemistry. For homework, you will have a two foot parchment on what we discussed in class, and its importance," he said, causing the class to groan.

"Man, is he serious?" One Gryffindor in front of you muttered to his friend, but you still heard him.

"No, he's Severus," you joked, louder than intended.

The class fell silent. Professor Snape walked to your desk, and the Hufflepuff boy next to you scooted his chair as far away as possible. It was obvious that Snape was annoyed, but up close, you could see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes that his frown didn't reach.

"Astute observation, Miss Knight. However," he bent down to meet your eyes, a playful grin still resting on your face, "it's prudent that one treats my class with respect, and for your blatant lack of veneration, I'll be generous enough to only assign you one extra foot of homework, and a detention after dinner. I hope it was worth it."

He proceeded to walk to the front of the class. You couldn't help but reply, "it Severus-ly was!"

He looked over at you, then rubbed his eyes with disdain.

"Very well, let's make that detention all week, and twenty house points from Hufflepuff. Thank you, Miss Knight."

Everyone in your house looked at you with annoyance, but the house you shared Potions with, Slytherin, all gave you a thumbs up and a smirk.

"Now, as I was saying before a certain dunderhead interrupted me..."

-later-

"Hello, Professor!" you exclaimed after he opened the door to your persistent knocking.

"Yes, good evening. Your detention tonight will be to take stock of my current classroom potion supply, and make notes on which are running low. You do not need to talk or make any comments while doing so," he said, guiding you to the back of the classroom.

"Great! If I have any questions, can I ask them?" you replied, tying your hair up and rolling the long sleeves of your cloak to your elbows.

"If they are relevant to the task at hand. If not, I have no problem taking off house points outside of class time," he stated, giving you a look of warning, and casting the unlocking charm to the supply closet, then proceeding to retreat to the front of the class to his desk.

"Of course not, why would I waste your time with any unnecessary questions? I would be Severus-ly annoying if I did that." You grinned, waiting for his response.

You only heard his faint murmur of, "Merlin."


	3. oops!... i did it again - britney spears

**September 1983**

"Professor! Please!" you shrieked as you ran across the corridor.

"Miss Knight. I told you, the homework was due at the beginning of class. You can't give me half of it at the beginning as 'collateral' and the other half, messily done, at the end. Have you learned nothing in a year of being my student? That's zero marks, Knight," he scolded, pushing away your hand holding the last scroll of the homework.

Throughout your first year, both you and Snape learned about each other, him becoming somewhat of a mentor in potions and a partner in sarcasm. He usually gave you detention and a quip of his own, but if you were being particularly annoying, he would resort to taking away house points.

"Severus-ly?!" you exclaimed, with a wide grin.

He stopped short, causing you to slam into his back.

"Knight," he said in a disappointed tone, "do you remember what I told you two months ago at the final fest of the school year?"

"Uh, no?" you asked sheepishly.

"Think about it," he replied, towering over you, you deeply regretting the use of the pun.

"'If you use my name in a pun one more time, I will send you to Dumbledore.' But I thought you meant no more using your name for the rest of that year! Please, can I just have that one freebie? I won't do it again, I promise," you begged.

"Merlin. Fine."

"Sick! Thank you, sir!" You held your hand up for a high five. Professor Snape turned away, leaving you hanging, and sarcastically muttered, "sick," under his breath.

Over the course of your first year, you had made several friends in Hufflpuff, but mostly friends in Ravenclaw, a couple in Slytherin, and none in Gryffindor. Their recklessness was too annoying to you. The Ravenclaws appreciated wisdom as much as you, and Slytherins shared your cunningness and determination, but Hufflepuffs and their loyalty to their friends caused you to join their house. The thing that rang strange to many of your house, and of your friends in other houses, however, was that you tended to be quite dry and sarcastic in how you show your love. Most didn't understand that you weren't trying to be mean, it was just how you were.

That's probably why you and Professor Snape got along so well. He tended to be quite strict and professorial in his lessons, which most perceived to be him being mean (which, it was probably a bit of that also). But, you continued to treat him with respect, yet as an equal. You lived by the belief that respect is to be earned, not given just because one is your elder. You worked hard, not only in Potions, but in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and your other classes. But, your best class was Potions, by far, and you did tend to struggle elsewhere. Though he had a bit of a cold demeanor, with your persistence, he had warmed up to you considerably over the course of your first year, leading to him to his allowance of you to spend time in his classroom outside of your frequent detentions, for help, or even just guidance.

That being said, you could afford to be a bit more in-tune with other people and their emotions. Snape had a begrudging respect for you because you were excellent at the craft, but, as he put it, you were more notably, 'a completely annoying and childish idiot.' You knew he mostly didn't mean it, however, because he was usually the one to propose your staying in the class for extra help.

All of your friends thought it was bizarre that you were kind of friends with the brooding professor, but you didn't find it to be abnormal at all. It wasn't like you were eating lunch with him, or cheering with him during Quidditch matches- he was your teacher, and a mentor. It really wasn't anything more than that, and certainly not with any mal-intent on his part. He was, as anyone could tell, a lonely person. You being there was like a younger sibling presence, or a younger niece. People forgot that Snape was only about 23 years old, but he was, and you hanging out with him was only friendly.


	4. 4. karma chameleon - culture club

**November 1984**

"Shit shit shit shit," you mumbled, nearly spilling the potion you were working on. The current distraction, though certainly not the first nor would it be the last, was your musical quill. One of your clever Ravenclaw friends decided that the appropriate and suitable 14th birthday gift to you would be a quill that sang when it felt the writer's hand perspire in trying to write quickly/under pressure. Magic really has come far.

You were quite pleased by the gift, not only because you loved music, but because it let you play muggle music. Some Slytherins liked to make fun of Hufflepuffs, and you being a muggle born put you at 2x the risk, but you couldn't help that you loved muggle bands like The Beatles and Beach Boys. You were nearly convinced that the Wilson brothers were wizards anyway, especially Brian. He must have had a lyric charmed quill to compose Pet Sounds. Either way, when you played Bohemian Rhapsody for your pure blood friends, most of them became quite reluctant to tease you for your muggle preferences. In fact, two pure bloods frequently asked to borrow your record player and newest records on the weekends.

But, the quill. That horrible, wonderful, dastardly quill. While trying to concoct a Dizziness Draught, and take notes, with only five minutes left in class, you broke off the tip of one of your eagle feathered quills. In attempt to hurry and keep going, you reached into your satchel for a new quill, and in not paying attention, you reached for the musical one.

It was fine at first. You knew you would finish in time, and even if you didn't, Snape tended to consider the quality rather than just who finished or not. But, of course, one of the annoying Gryffindors next to you had to be passing notes over your table. You ignored the first flying plane, looked to Snape after the second nearly hit you in the head, and finally made eye contact at the third. You gestured with your eyes to the student to your left, who was about to launch another plane.

He rolled his eyes. "Mr. Hummer, Mr. Jacobsen. Whether or not you have completed the assignment, you must refrain from passing notes in my class, especially over likely the only student who will successfully produce a Dizziness Draught. Twenty points from Gryffindor," he commanded, looking back to you after his speech. You gave him a wide grin, and a thumbs up. He responded with another roll of his eyes and a small smile.

That would help you finish, but the ordeal took three minutes of your time, and you still needed the fern leaves to finish steeping, and gradually lower the heat to a simmer while adding porcupine quills. And finish your written observations. With time stamps.

"Please complete your potions and bring them to the my desk. Class will be over very soon," he called to the class, most students having completed already, but a few, like yourself, were waiting for the leaves.

You hurriedly picked up your quill to complete your lab report. Two more students turn their potions in, leaving just you, Professor Snape, and twenty seconds. You quickly turn down the heat and add the quills, then transfer the potion to a vial.

Quickly, you picked up your own quill to write down the final color and aroma of the potion, when you heard Sting's voice erupt from your hand.

_"Every little thing she does is magic_   
_Everything she do just turns me on_   
_Even though my life before was tragic_   
_Now I know my love for her goes on..."_

You stared at your quill, horrified. Slowly, you looked up to meet your eyes to Snape's.

"The Police?" he asked, with a glint of humor in his eyes.

"Yes, sir," you said, cheeks turning red, while fighting a smile. It was embarrassing, sure, but it could've been McGonagall, or, even worse, Duran Duran. Snape and you had a friendly mentor/student relationship, you tending to come to his class for more experimentation time with potions, detention, and the occasional help in other classes like Charms and D.A.D.A.

"Alright," he said, holding out his palm.

This could be for three possible things: the potion (most likely), the quill (very possibly), or a high five (absolutely not). You quickly brought your hand down to meet his in a high five.

A short laugh escaped his mouth. "The potion, Miss Knight. I'll let the high five slide this time."

You smiled, and pass him the potion and report, rolled and combined with twine.

"Did you enchant it yourself?" he asked, resting his hand against the table to talk as you clean up, one hand reaching for the quill.

"No, no. A friend gave it to me. You know I'm dreadful with Charms, and the only class I'm somewhat competent in is Potions." You looked at him jokingly, with a slight eyebrow raise. He had a small smile, and inspects the quill.

"That's quite a spellar gift," he said, turning back around and walking in long strides back to his desk.

You laughed loudly, causing him to look at you again. "Did you finally make a pun?" you exclaimed, holding a hand to your heart. "About time!"

He groaned, "Knight. You nearly beg me everyday to laugh at your jokes, I had to return one for once. This will not become a common occurrence, however, so do not expect my excellent humor everyday."

"I'll only expect it when I have detention," you said, him giving you a reproachful look in response. "Kidding! Jeez. I will say, however, you do have a great im-magic-nation. Get it? Like imagin-" You began to cheekily reply when he cut you off.

"That's quite enough, Knight."

"Got it."

"I will see you tonight for your detention." You groaned, opening the door and walking out. You hear another faint laugh as you leave, causing the corners of your mouth to slightly upturn. Who would've thought that grumpy Snape had a soft spot for muggle music, especially The Police?


	5. fashion - david bowie

**December 1985**

"Utterly ghastly," you said, making a face at the dress your friend, Violet, pulled from a rack in a shop in Hogsmeade. It was the Yule Ball, and you still hadn't picked out an ensemble for the dance at 8 that night.

"What will John be wearing?" Violet questioned, with a small, mischievous smile. You both giggled. John was your date to the event, and you asked the Slytherin the previous weekend. He was a handsome fifth year prefect, but horribly shy. You had met at the Sorting Ceremony in September, and became friends throughout the school year, yet _staying_ only as good friends, while you flirted throughout the autumn. But, being the slightly boisterous Hufflepuff you were, you decided to ask him to the dance in the middle of breakfast last Saturday.

"He's wearing a black suit, and a green velvet bow tie. Isn't that so Great Gatsby? I can't wait," you gushed, your head leaning down to rest on the clothing rack next to you.

"Fantastic, great. So should we look for something green to match? What a Slytherin move to wear green to a dance. We get it, hiss hiss," she rolled her eyes. You and Violet became friends after a particularly embarrassing incident in Transfiguration. You two never told the full story, only explaining the ending, that, "she ended up with my chicken's beak, and I had her pig's snout!"

"Do I really have to match with that abhorrent house? How about a devilish black? Or present some house pride of my own, with something yellow? If every other bloody house can have a hard-on for their founder, so can we! We love you Helga!" you joked, pulling out a bright yellow mini skirt that looked straight out of the sixties, with neon pink flowers. You stick out your tongue in distaste.

"Vile! How is John," her voice dropped to a whisper, "or Professor Snape,'' it rose to normal volume, "going to notice and appreciate your beauty in a miniskirt? I recommend a simple green dress, with some fantastic shoulder pads."

You immediately cackled at her words. "What?" You barked out a laugh. "Professor Snape? I'd rather bite it than go with him," you giggled, imagining your teacher dancing to Bennie and the Jets, or worse, Thriller.

It was immensely difficult and repulsive to think of your teacher in a romantic way. Snape? With his brooding glare and his funeral march? Just yesterday, he had commended the elixir you were working on, and assigned a detention because right after he gave you full marks, you accidentally spilled the entire potion on his sleeve while leaning over to high five Violet, causing his sleeve to melt off.

"I'm only joking. He does favor you, but that could be because he's jealous of your Potion talent," she replied, pulling out a very distressed and old dress. "How 'bout this one! It has character!"

"Um, Violet? It's the 1980s, not the 1880s. It would be great for a Death Day party, though." You grimaced. "Also, he definitely does not favor me. He gives me detention almost every class, for the measliest of jokes."

"Rose." She clicked her tongue in mock disapproval. "Haven't you noticed that almost everyone gets house points taken away, but you get detention? He wants to spend time with you outside of class! Not only that, but usually detention with Snape is utter torture. For you, though, he literally lets you do whatever you want, as long as it's in the classroom. You can do other homework, ask him questions. Occasionally he'll make you organize, but you like to organize, and he knows it! Everyone else has to scrub cauldrons, without magic, or polish, or some other grueling task."

You never really thought about that. It was true, though. When comparing his to Professor Sprout, for example, the favoritism was obvious. In Sprout's detention, she made her students fight feisty plants, usually coming our red, sweaty, and caked in dirt. While Snape's detention was like hanging out with a friend. Really, even if you didn't get detention, you would probably go to Snape's classroom at the end of the day anyway, unless you had an exam the next.

You changed the subject back to the task at hand. "AGHHHH. Is this hopeless? Am I doomed for an eternity of dress shopping? Will John wait forever outside of the Hufflepuff common room? Is my- ooh wait look at this!" you droned, but cut yourself off when you see the outfit of your dreams.

An emerald velvet jumpsuit with prominent shoulder pads. The neckline was a simple scoop, and there was a delicate lace trim around the sleeves. While you were looking for a dress, this was perfect. It was much more your style, and it was a great color. And only two galleons, since it was preowned. With your budget of five galleons, you could still afford an accessory, and you were hoping to find a new necklace or bracelet.

Violet gasped. "Rose! That jumpsuit is your destiny. Please buy it, immediately. Don't even try it on." She got down on her knees and pretended to bow down to the jumpsuit.

"C'mon, you silly thing. I'm going to try it on, but even if it doesn't fit, a simple engorgement or shrinking charm will work." You laughed, holding your hand out for her to stand.

She had picked out a maroon dress a few minutes ago, so you both run to the dressing rooms to try on your finds.

She stepped out first. "Rosaline! Hurry it up! It's already three and the dance begins at eight!" She tapped her foot, jokingly impatiently.

You stepped out. You both gasped looking at each other. While Violet's eyes threateningly get watery with tears, you laugh.

"Violet, please! We both look Dumble-adorable. There's no need to get emotional about it," you joshed, her tears falling as she laughs. "Jeez, what a Hufflepuff," You pretend to say to an imaginary person next to you.

"You look so great. John is going to faint when he sees you. Especially since you're wearing Slytherin green."

You both go up to buy your outfits, her going first, but a thought lingers with you when you wait for your chance to pay. What _would_ Snape think? He would be there, you knew that from talking to him recently. Of course, when he told you he said it with an acidic tone, but that's just Snape. Would he bother talking to you outside of the classroom? You usually gave him a smile and finger guns if you saw him in the Great Hall or in corridors, and he typically returned it with a nod, or occasionally a funny salute or wave. But that's during school hours. What about at night, in a fancy setting?

You remark on this to yourself, but as you and Violet walk back to Hogwarts, after you find a silver necklace with a delicate sunflower charm, this thought leaves your mind and all you can imagine is dancing with John.

~ later ~

"Pass me the white eyeliner?"

"Rose! You've been hogging the blush for an eon!"

"Merlin, Violet, can you pay that owl already? It's been hooting for the last five minutes," you said, passing the blush as she rolls the eyeliner to you. Getting ready for a Christmas dance is no easy feat, especially with four other girls getting ready at the same time.

Your housemates were friendly, as they had been since first year, but they weren't actually your closest friends, like Violet, or Tara from Ravenclaw. Your housemates consisted of the short and blonde Diana, raven haired and impossibly beautiful Ophelia, and the optimistic Helena, with hair so blonde it looked white in the sun. They were your pals, sure, but they didn't understand you well, and were dreadfully oblivious to your humor. Complete bleeding-heart Hufflepuffs.

Rapidly, Violet reached over to the owl, took the package, and placed three sickles in the pouch attatched to the leg. She gave it a quick pet, then ran back to her chair.

"Thanks, random owl!" you called, hearing a faint hoot in the distance. "Who's got post?"

"The ever so popular Rosaline Knight, of course! It doesn't have a return name on the outside, though," Violet said, passing you the note.

You opened it, to see a very small potion vial, and a quick note in a familiar scrawl:

_'You might need this to endure four hours of dancing tonight.'_

You snorted.

Despite it not being marked with a name, you knew it was Professor Snape. The potion was a great yellow, with an almost glittery film coating the inner glass of the vial.

"Ooh, what's that?" Diana asked, looking confused.

"It's from Professor Snape. I'm pretty sure it's an Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Damn right, I'll need it if I need to get through tonight," you said. "I'll take it right before we leave, he probably altered the recipe so it lasts around four hours, so I'll need to save it until then."

You heard giggles, and turned around. All four of the girls were knowingly looking at each other.

"Merlin. What is wrong with you guys? He was making a bloody joke. He probably made one for himself, knowing that tonight was going to be utter torture, and thought it would be funny to send me some as well, because I mentioned that I'm not a big fan of long social interaction," you exclaimed, becoming increasingly more annoyed. Yeah, okay, it was a little bizarre, but that's Snape; it was a bloody gag.

"I'm sorry, Rosaline. I think that was quite nice of him," Helena remarked, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

The other girls apologized, afraid they genuinely hurt you. Bloody bleeding-heart Hufflepuffs.

"Guys, it's fine. Can we please play some Bowie, now?" you joked, pulling out Let's Dance.

Quickly, any tension dissolved as David Bowie remarks on the importance of dancing. All of you hurry to finish your make up to make it in time to dance to the chorus. David Bowie was an utter god.

_"If you should fall into my arms_   
_And tremble like a flower!"_

You all sang, dancing ridiculously through the musical section. "You could look into my eyes," You and Violet sang, dramatically holding each other's faces.

_"Because my love for you_   
_Would break my heart in two._   
_If you should fall into my arms_   
_And tremble like a flower..."_

David sings in his iconic voice. As you and the other girls listened to the rest of the song, you pulled on your dresses (and jumpsuit). You wore your black chunky heels, hair freshly permed, and your sunflower necklace resting on your sternum.

"Fabulous! Fantastic!" you all said, complimenting each other.

"Shall we, depart-y?" you asked with a wide smile. Groans fill the Hufflepuff bedroom.

"Rose." The girls said, along with various ridicules, you catching the phrase, 'Helga would be ashamed.'

"C'mon, guys!" you exclaimed, quickly downing the potion and pull open the door. Immediately, a sense of giddiness fills you, and a bright smile dons your face. "I'm gonna make out with John tonight."

The other girls laughed and file out behind you. It would certainly be an interesting night.


	6. mean mr mustard - the beatles

**December 1985**

You smiled, and not just because of the potion. John looked incredibly handsome in his suit, his hair gelled like Marlon Brando.

"You look so beautiful," he said to you as you walk towards him outside of the Hufflepuff dorm. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek, and held out a pin.

"A pin?" you asked, confused. It was a delicate and beautiful pin of one of your favorite magical creatures, a Niffler, but you didn't understand why he was giving it to you.

"Oh, I'm a square. Sorry, I forgot you were muggle born. It's traditional for wizards to give their date a pin depicting something of significance to the witch. Do you like it?" he asked, taking it back to pin it to the jumpsuit. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed the bare skin of your collarbone.

"It's really great. Thank you. I didn't know you knew I liked nifflers. You know, in muggle culture, the boy gives the girl a flower, and she wears it like a bracelet on her wrist, and she gives the boy," you said, reaching behind to pluck a flower from the plant resting on the windowsill. "a flower to wear on his lapel."

You smiled while you fasten it to his coat. He looked down at you with a grin of his own. Maintaining eye contact, both of you blush and smile like doofs. Your friends look at the pair of you with grins of their own.

John cleared his throat. "Shall we go, then?"

"Absolutely." You hooked your arm through his, and made your way to the Great Hall.

As you walked throughout the school, you and John talked about classes and your interests. While you talk, though, there was a lingering thought in the back of your mind, that being, _'Snape already knows all of this, and I already know all about him,'_ but you ignored this thought, and listened to John.

"Bowie's alright. I quite like Rush, and Metallica," he said.

You gasped in mock horror. "Bowie's alright? How dare you! He's incredible!" you exclaimed.

John laughed again. "Space Oddity freaked me out! Most magic music is better than muggle music, any how, don't you agree?" he asked, directing you two to the open doors of the Hall.

You began to reply, but your voice trailed off as you look at the decorations and the new appearance of the room. There were floating candles everywhere, delicate curtains strewn across the walls, and a glittering, yet somehow not tacky, disco ball hung from the center of the ceiling.

"Wow. Oh man, look at the Angel's Trumpet!" you squealed, beginning to drag John to the flower arrangements, your inner Hufflepuff surfacing.

"I'm going to go meet my friends really quick, but let's meet by the punch in twenty minutes, okay?" he said, not waiting for a response. You pout, but go over to look at the flowers, the elixir not quite dampening your disappointment.

You listened to the soft toots of the flowers, smelling the various plants with a soft smile. You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you spun around.

"Professor! You look Slyther-impeccable!" you quietly say with a grin. You joked, but he really did look great. His usually limp black hair was tied into a ponytail at his neck. He wore dress robes, but the hint of a black dress shirt peeked from his woolen cloak. He snorted a laugh in response.

You both looked at the flowers, discussing the various properties and their use in potions.

After a few minutes of silently observing and smelling the flowers, Snape spoke up. "You look Ravencl-awesome, by the way. I see you wore green in support of the best house at Hogwarts," Snape said with a slight grin. You responded with a wide smile of your own.

"Wow, you couldn't even think of a pun with my house. Pathetic. And you know I didn't wear green for Slytherin, doof. My date is wearing green, and I had to match," you scoffed with humor, leaning in again to smell flowers.

He looks at you again for a moment, then observes the crowd with a scowl. "So where is Callow, anyway?"

"Callow? Who's Call- oh, do you mean John? He wanted to greet his friends for a moment, but we're meeting up soon. He gave me this pin," you said, puffing up your chest and pointing to the pin. Snape bent down to inspect it.

"Hmm. That's kind of him. Don't you like hippogriffs more, though? Didn't you say that nifflers were thieves with fur?" He smirked, lighting touching the jewels of the galleon the niffler held.

You stiffled a gasp when his fingers accidentally brushed the jut of your collarbone. "Of course you would know that, even though I only mentioned it like, once," You roll your eyes, removing his hand from the pin. You further protested, "Don't smirk like that. Nifflers are cute!"

He continues, "Your own date doesn't know what your favorite creature is? Does he even know your favorite color? Or your love for double chocolate cookies? Or how you would rather be a muggle than ever support Manchester United?" he asked, his long frame towering over you. You didn't even realize he knew that much about you.

You turned around, grabbing the first flower you see. "Here. An umbrella flower, because you keep raining on my parade." You placed the stem behind his ear so the flower peeks blooms at his temple.

He looked surprised, but allowed you to adjust and place the flower. "Did you take the elixir? You don't seem euphoric," he said, touching the flower at his ear.

You rolled your eyes agin. "Yes, sir, I did take it. And I feel fan-bloody-tastic. In fact, I see my date, and I'm sure that pretty soon I'll feel superb." You brushed past him and start to walk away. He grabbed your arm, and you looked over your shoulder. "What? Is there something surprising about the fact that I want to leave my teacher, and meet up with my date? Merlin's beard," you scoffed, trying to pull your arm out of his firm grasp.

"What's your problem? How did this go so wrong so fast?" he questioned, a concerned look in his eyes. You became more agitated. "I made the elixir less potent than usual so you wouldn't act ridiculous, but I should've taken into account your," he paused, searching for the right words, "anger issues."

You furrowed your brows in anger. "Seriously? You're acting like a jerk. I don't really fancy being friends with someone who makes fun of the bloke I'm seeing," you crossed your arms. You feel angry, but were also kind of confused. Why was he acting like a concerned parent, or even a boyfriend? He's your bloody teacher!

"Knight. We may not be in class, but you cannot disrespect me. And we aren't friends. Teachers aren't friends with their students," he said, waiting for your reaction. As he had likely suspected, your mouth dropped open in surprise and frustration.

Not friends? Even he knew it was bullshit. You hung out like friends, talked like friends. He was being an utter rotter.

"Okay, Professor Snape. Sorry for any disrespect. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go make out with my date while you sit here, lonely, smelling the roses," you seethed, walking away, leaving Snape with an angry sneer. You knew it was harsh, and you didn't actually want to make him angry, but he was getting on your nerves. You used his full teacher name, which you hadn't done since first year, and he never minded that you usually only called him Sir or Professor, or even just Snape.

He called out your name again, and while you tried to keep walking, he cast a spell that caused you to retreat back to the wand, like a dog going back to his owner.

"Miss Knight," he said, while you rolled your eyes in disgust. He hardly ever called you that, preferring to call you by just your last or first name. "I'm sorry if I offended you, but you really need to stop. Detention all next week. And although we both know you aren't a true Hufflepuff, you need to act like one, and be kind," he said, but immediately regretted it as your mouth slightly opened in shock, and your eyes became dangerously glassy. "Wait, Rosaline, I'm sor-"

You cut him off, fuming. "Snape. I can't believe you. You're the one person... just, fuck you," you said, fists clenched at your sides as you storm off. He didn't even bother going after you, or make you apologize for cursing.

The whole time in school, everyone you knew questioned why the Sorting Hat put you in Hufflepuff, even you. In fact, you frequently joked that the Hat was so baffled at your lack of hospitality that it put you in Hufflepuff to try and instill those manners in you. But Snape, he never made you feel bad or wrong for being a Hufflepuff. Even when you joked about it to him, he would just remind you that the Hat never makes mistakes.

But now, he crossed the line that he stuck by for four years, and it made you feel like shit. You knew you weren't a model Hufflepuff, but for him to say that, it felt wrong. Like he was insulting your family name. Although you didn't present as a perfect Hufflepuff, you loved your house, and you never felt more at home than in a cushioned chair with a hot cocoa and a Wings record spinning on the record player.

You made your way to the punch table and tapped John on the shoulder, a fake smile plastered to your face.

"Hey, Rosie! This is Jeremey, and Harold, and..." he introduced you to his friends, you giving them waves as John continued talking. You laughed when others did, and pretended to listen, but all you could think about was Snape, and you turned to look at him for the first time since you walked the punch bowl.

He had stayed by the flowers, and was looking at you with a sad frown, the flower still behind his ear, but drooping. Professor Dumbledore was talking to him, but he didn't appear to be listening. You quickly turned your head around when John called your name.

"Rose, do you want to go and talk over there?" He pointed to a secluded corner where other couples were talking, some kissing.

"Yeah, sure," you said half heartedly, starting to make your way when his friends begin to laugh and make kiss noises. John laughed, and lightly punched one of them in the shoulder.

When you get there, you immediately cup your hand on his face and snog him. He almost takes a step back in surprise, but quickly responded with more fervor and enthusiasm.

You continued to kiss, one of his hands going down to your butt, one staying on your flushed cheek. Your hands tangle in his hair, mussing up his gel and creating a wild mess. You stop for a minute, and giggle.

"Fancy meeting you hair," you said, tousling his hair even more.

He stopped kissing your neck. "What?" he asked, confused.

You furrowed your brows, you in slight confusion as well. "Nothing, it was just a joke." He still looked perplexed. "Like 'fancy meeting you here'? But hair? Because your hair was messed up?" You waited for him to understand, but he clearly didn't. "Whatever, let's just kiss again."

He bent down to begin kissing you more, when you heard a deep voice clear their throat.

"Although I'm sure you both would love to continue your public display of affection, I'm going to ask you both to stop," Snape's voice boomed. When you slowly met your eyes to his, he was staring at you with a disinterested frown, but his eyes were flaming with fury.

You groaned. "Fine, fine. we'll go somewhere else. C'mon, John," you said, beginning to pull him away.

"Stop, Miss Knight. I need to speak with you. Mr Callow, please go elsewhere for a moment. Five points from Slytherin for indecency," he stated, not looking away from your own eyes of anger.

John looked confused and begun to walk away, and although you didn't show it, you were also confused, because Snape never takes away points from his house. You gave John a wink, and looked back at Snape, who was openly seething.

"What the hell is your problem now, Snape? Have you seen the dozen other couples kissing? Why are you targeting me? Are you jeal-" you mocked, your hands on your hip.

"Give me the potion bottle I sent you earlier," he said, ignoring your accusations to him. Perplexed, you handed him the vial, and he smelled the remaining drops of potion at the bottom. He sighed in disappointment. "This is not the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Damn it," he said, forcefully putting the potion bottle in his dress pocket, a faint cracking sound escaping his hand.

You tilted your head in bafflement. "What? What potion is it then? It certainly looked like an elixir to induce euphoria, and I thought I felt happier than usual..." you trailed off, thinking.

You both looked at each other, and at the same time, both said, "Ethos Potion?" you asked, while he said it with a tone of assertion. You groaned.

It made sense to be the Ethos Potion, which exaggerated the current mood of the drinker. When you drank it, you already felt happy, so it made you feel happier than usual. When Snape made you angry, your anger was exemplified, and when you wanted to seek distraction, you were fervent in your desire to find distraction.

"I'm sorry, Rosaline. I must've chosen the wrong one when I sent it to you. They both look similar, but I should've smelled it first. I really thought it was the euphoria elixir," Snape said, apologetically. "Let's go to the classroom right now and I can find an antidote."

Snape and you walked out of the Great Hall and down to the dungeons.

"I thought you made a batch of elixir for yourself, and sent me what was left over, since you knew I'm not a big fan of large crowds and I suck at dancing," you said, your feet finally hurting after the adrenaline of the night began to wear off.

"Well, no. I don't like to take potions preemptively, but I did think that you would want one," he said, looking anywhere but at you.

"Huh," you said in surprise. "That's nice of you. Kinda had the opposite effect, though, didn't it?"

He lightly chuckled. "Yes, I suppose so."

Right before you two entire the potions classroom, Snape turned to you with a look of apology. "I'm really sorry about, well, everything. I shouldn't have said those things about Callow, and you are a true Hufflepuff, no matter what anyone says, especially this old loser. And we are friends, truly. You're kind when you aren't expected to be, and I genuinely like spending time with you. I was being..."

"Say it, Snape. I'm not letting this go until you say it," you waited for his response.

"I was being Severus-ly dickish," he said, mirroring his smile to your newly forming one.

"Dickish? That's not what I was expecting, but alright." You opened the door, and perched yourself on top of one of the desks while he searched for the counter potion. "You aren't off the hook, you know. You really did hurt my feelings, potion or no." 

He looked up from the potion cabinet. "I don't know what came over me, and I deeply apologize. I just... I don't want you to be taken advantage of."

You hummed thoughtfully, but declined to answer further. 

He sighed. "Other than my atrocious behavior, did you have a nice time?" he called out, still searching in the potion cabinet.

"Not really. John is an awfully wet kisser, and he definitely has the hots for his friend, Jane, so I need to call that off," you replied, picking at the trim of your sleeve. "He was also being a dick himself. Who leaves their date as soon as they get to the dance? Also, he doesn't like Bowie. That's grounds for termination itself." The noise from the back of the room suddenly halted. You heard the swish of fabric make its way to your desk.

"What? Did he cheat on you?" Snape asked, looking murderous.

"Chill out! I only slightly liked him, anyway. We didn't actually ever go out, and we aren't a couple. I just needed a date for tonight," you said, looking back at him with indifference, shifting into mischief. "Although, I never even got a chance to dance tonight," you added with a sing-song tone.

"No. Not happening," he said, passing you the antidote and beginning to walk to the door.

You quickly swallowed, and felt your high emotions begin to calm down. Finally, you felt like yourself again.

"Snape, please. If you do this, I'll completely forgive you, and I'll never bring up your house-prejudiced remarks again! And your general state of asshole-ery!" you called out to him, knowing he would return.

Sure enough, he did, and even though he presented like he was annoyed, you knew he didn't really mind dancing with you, finally going back to your usual friendship. The flower behind his ear was in complete bloom.

"What song?" he asked, warily.

"I'll even let you pick," you said, reaching down to take off your tortured heels. You rubbed your raw feet, waiting for the music to start, not knowing what to expect. Snape was a teen in the 70s, so it could be anything from The Doors to Bee Gees.

Suddenly, from a floating record player, you hear the opening notes to one of your favorite songs, In My Room by Beach Boys.

"Aww!" you proclaimed in mock affection, putting your hands over your heart. He responds with a roll of his eyes, a smirk, and places his hands on your waist, you now considerably shorter without your heels.

You reach up to put your hands on his shoulders, swaying to the music. "I thought you were going to pick 'Staying Alive,' or something," you whispered, the song washing over the two of you, you leaning your head to rest on his chest.

He didn't respond, just softly exhaling and moving a bit closer, leaving you and him to think.

_"There's a world where I can go and tell my secrets to_   
_In my room, in my room_   
_In this world I lock out all my worries and my fears_   
_In my room, in my room_

_Do my dreaming and my scheming_   
_Lie awake and pray_   
_Do my crying and my sighing_   
_Laugh at yesterday..."_

As the song finished, you both pulled away.

"Thanks," you said, sheepishly rubbing your arm. "That turned quite sentimental, huh?"

"Don't tell any of your Hufflepuffs you got me to dance," he said, going over to the record player, and charming it to land on an empty desk. "Are we good now? Friends?" he asked, holding out his hand for a high five.

"Hell yeah!" you exclaimed, high fiving him enthusiastically. He hung his head in mock disappointment.

When you left him with a wave that night, going back to your room as the dance had finished a half hour ago, you thought about how, maybe, the Professor really did think of you as a friend, and how lonely he must be each night in the dungeons.

And, with a sinking feeling, you thought about how he really wasn't that bad, and you wouldn't mind spending time in those dreary dungeons if he would be there too.


	7. tainted love - soft cell

**June 1987**

"Bloody hell," you said, reaching across the desk for the open bottle of ink, and began aggressively crossing out phrases.

"What now, drama queen?" Snape asked, not looking up from the papers he was grading. You were in his class to study, as you usually did for about an hour after your last class of the day. You managed to not really get detention anymore, but you still hung out with Snape.

"Can you please tell me the incantation that makes flowers grow from the wand? It's on the tip of my tongue, but I can't remember," you asked.

" _Orchideous_ ," he stated, finally looking up at you, not openly laughing, but he was clearly amused.

"Jeez, sorry to not be at the intelligent level of the famous Severus Snape," you joked back. "I'm going to fail all of my OWLs except yours, so I hope you won't mind that I have to bail."

You begin to pack up, but Snape is already at your desk."You do know that detentions aren't optional, right? You can't just leave when you want to," he affirmed, bemused. 

Well, that's awkward. "Uh, Snape? I'm not in here for detention tonight. I was just coming in to study," you replied, and he looked surprised. 

"Oh. Right. I guess you haven't really been acting so atrocious anymore," he responded. He still looks slightly surprised, but also somewhat... disappointed? You did not have the patience or the urge to try and identify all of Snape’s moods, especially now. 

"I've been a model student this year. I guess being an OWL learner really matured me," you said with mock pride, in doing so, you accidentally drop your wand, and it sent sparks to your homework. "Shit."

Snape laughs, and walks over to your desk. He picked up a loose parchment and read over it. "What is this? Were you trying to invent a potion?" he questioned. You cursed under your breath, causing him to roll his eyes. "You know you can experiment whenever you want, as long as you replenish whatever you use the last of." 

"No, no, I know, sir. Ugh, okay. It was supposed to be an end of the year present, that's all," you admitted, sinking back down into your chair. 

You wanted to give Snape a thoughtful gift for the end of the year, because he helped you so much throughout your time at Hogwarts. So, you decided to try and create a new potion that could cause the drinker to remember certain pieces of specific information, like a Memory Potion and Remembrall put together. 

He still looked confused, so you elaborated, "For you, dummy." 

"Oh," he muttered, passing you the scrap of paper. 

"Yeah, but it would probably not work anyway, and I've barely tinkered with it. I know how important it is to you that you have a sharp mind, but I also know that you can be forgetful since you always have a lot going on, but-"

"I really appreciate it. I'm sorry for ruining the surprise," he said, taking a seat across from you, twirling his wand between his fast fingers. 

You burst out laughing. "You're apologizing for finding out I was trying to make you a gift? Godric's beard, Snape."

"Alright, whatever. I'll see you after your Charms exam. Come to my class after and we can discuss it, if you want," he said, slowly walking back to his desk and taking a seat.

"Of course! But, are you alright? I can stay if you want?" you questioned, putting your bag down.

"No, no, it's fine. Do whatever you want," he said as he stared at the next essay, but his eyes were stationary.

For a few seconds, you stared at the Professor and you felt like you were letting him down, in a way. After thinking it over, you decided to stay.

You frowned. "This is gonna sound bizarre," you state as you tapped your nails against the desk, “but can I please take a nap here? My whole house is partying because it's the last night before OWLs, and I am utterly exhausted. You know how Hufflepuffs are."

"I don't really know if that's appropriate, Rosaline. You should just go back to your dorm if you're tired," he clasped his hands in front of him, making eye contact again. He almost seemed nervous about you staying. His eyes seemed tired as well, but his desk was piled with assignments to grade. 

"Oh, okay. That's fine," you said, voice falsely brightening before you look back down at your now cleared desk. 

You started to walk towards the door to the classroom, when his deep voice rang out again.

"Actually, you can take a rest here, but your desk wouldn't be comfortable. You can sleep on the couch in my office," he reluctantly called out, you retreating back to his desk. 

"Oh my Godric, really?! I've never even been inside your office! Yay!" you exclaimed, him rolling his eyes.

"Calm down, Hufflepuff. Only for an hour, okay? It's almost curfew," he stated as he got up from his desk, leading you to the room connected to the class. He unlocked the door and held it open for you. His office was completely abysmal and depressing, not to mention freezing cold, which didn't make sense since it was June. The only source of color came from some glowing potions behind a locked cabinet, likely various elixirs of life.

He casted a spell that ignited flames from the fireplace to your left, and the couch he mentioned earlier moves in front of the roaring fire. Ah, warmth. 

"Thank you so much, Professor. I really need this," you said as you placed your bag on the floor towards the base of the couch, and took off your cloak to wear as a blanket. You lied down, and almost immediately fell asleep. Snape hadn't even left the room before you fell into a deep slumber. 

~

He looked at you briefly, before exiting and returning to his essays, but he couldn't focus. Not necessarily at the fact that you, specifically you, were sleeping mere feet from him (although he does think about that), he mostly he thought about the fact that not only was one of his students his friend (he could admit that, certainly, now) but that the student felt comfortable enough with him to sleep by him, and optionally. Not to mention, that student wanted to give him such a thoughtful and personal gift.

As you slept, Snape worked through the essays, one by one, grading with his red ink and harsh remarks. Though, one could objectively say that the feedback he returned to each student wasn't as aggressive as it usually was, and it was actually more helpful than harmful. However, as he graded, his eyes kept drooping and he felt fatigue cloud his mind. 

Usually, he would just take a Pepperup Potion, suck it up, and finish. But tonight, he felt strangely compelled to take a nap. Not only a nap, but a nap near you. The couch in his office was where he would typically take a quick break, but you were obviously already there. So, he decided to conjure another couch and take a quick nap so he could be refreshed and finish grading that night, and wake up before you even knew he slept. 

Yet, of course, the talented and intelligent Potion Master would forget to set any kind of alarm. He hadn't slept as good in years as he did that night, next to you.

You both slept until 6 am the next morning. 

~

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was that while the fire was no longer burning, there was light streaming into Snape's office. The next thing you noticed, beginning to feel panic, is _you were in Snape's office, and bloody hell he was sleeping in there, too._

You started to quietly chuckle, deciding the best way to wake Snape up would be with a small prank. "Wake up, sunshine," you whispered in his ear, lightly tapping him on the head. 

"Ug... hmmm. Lil..." he mumbled, rolling over for you to see, uh, well. Something natural and completely normal for men to experience in the morning. 

Your eyes widened in shock, thoughts coursing through your mind. You quickly moved to pick up your things and get the heck out of there before he woke up and it got awkward because you saw your teacher's... wand?

Holy shit, Professor Snape had a boner, and it was... _impressive_. 

You scampered out of the office before he woke up and noticed that you saw what you definitely saw. You heard a few more grunts, and then you were out of the classroom. You ran down the hall to the Hufflepuff Basement, stopping quickly in the kitchen for a fresh muffin. Damn you, stomach. 

"Rose! Where the hell were you? We were so worried!" Ophelia exclaimed when you tried to quietly close the dorm door. 

"Guys. Holy shit. Wait, hold on," you said as you put down your bag and sit on your bed and took a bite of muffin quickly. "I was in Snape's office, where I thought I would just be taking a quick nap, right? This was last night, by the way." 

"Helga Hufflepuff! He let you take a nap in his office?" Violet exclaimed, her mouth open in shock just like the other girls. 

"Yes, but that's not even the craziest part. So I'm taking a nap, and at some point, fucking Snape apparently decides he's tired and he wants a nap, so he conjures a couch and sleeps next to me! All while I'm asleep!" you screamed, the girls flipping out with you. 

"Okay! Okay! You guys aren't even ready for this last part." 

The girls were all waiting in shock for whatever you will say. You pretended to take a bite of the muffin in slow motion, causing them to groan in frustration. 

"Rosaline! Literally the only time we care about your story, and you're messing around. Please, tell us already!" Helena pleaded. 

"Holy shit, okay. So I wake up, and I freak out because I thought I would just be taking a short nap, but I wake up and it's obviously morning. I see Snape next to me, and I think, okay, perfect time to play a prank," you revealed, remembering the experience. 

But then, you wondered if you should tell them. It's a very personal detail, and if something like that happened to you, like if you started your period and he went and told all of his teacher friends, you would never want to talk to him again. Besides, he was asleep. It's not like he could control it.

Also, you weren't sure if you wanted your friends to know that Snape was packin'. 

You faltered. "I, um, I go up to him, and I say, 'wake up, sunshine,' just as a joke, you know. And then, uh, he doesn't wake up." 

Your friends looked at you confused. "That's the last part? That he's still asleep?" Violet said, head cocked to the side. 

You smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, guys, I think I was just caught up in the moment. The craziest part was just that he slept next to me, I guess." 

They looked around at each other disappointed. 

"Oh, well. It's still a good story, Rose. I can't believe he did that!" Violet exclaimed, and the other girls nodded. 

You went to the showers to get ready, and think about what happened. You supposed it was nice that he felt comfortable enough to sleep next to you, but it was a bit strange. Oh, well. You pushed that thought aside to think about your upcoming exams, and how you needed to finish Snape's gift.

~later~

"Five more minutes left in the practical portion of your Potions exam!" The proctor called out to the fifth years. The last of your OWL examinations, and you are actually doing alright. You felt strong about your Defense against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, and Astronomy, you think you passed Divination and Transfiguration, but you think you completely failed History of Magic and Charms. And, of course, you hoped you were going to make a perfect O in Potions. 

The assigned potion wasn't one you did in class, one where the class only went over the theory, but luckily, you and Snape did in one of your out of class sessions. The relationship between you and Snape was a bit strained, at the moment. Sometime after you left, some of your friends in Slytherin told you that, the morning of the Charms exam (and your impromptu sleepover) they thought they heard him yell, and throw something. You did go to see him after your Charms exam, but he told you he was busy and pushed you out of his class. 

Since it was exam week, that meant you didn't have actual classes for the rest of the year, because exams took a whole day, or at least half a day. So, you tried to go and see him after each exam, but he was always gone. Today, however, it was your last OWL, and it was the Potions exam. He would have to see you today, as it was the last time to meet before the End of the Term Feast, and going home on the Hogwarts Express.

The potion of the exam was difficult, but since you already did it correctly one time, you knew how to make it. It was the Draught of Peace, one of your favorite potions, and certainly one of OWL level difficulty.

You were on the last step, adding seven drops of hellebore while lowering the heat. The vapor turned silver, and you finally released the breath you were holding. According to the hourglass, you had a minute to turn in your potion. Quickly, but not carelessly, you poured the potion into a vial and waited at your desk for a proctor to collect it. When you turned around to pick up your cloak from the back of your chair, you saw Snape.

He was staring at you, but when you began to wave and smile, he abruptly turned around and walked out of the lab. Your smile quickly turned into a frown, and you rushed to gather your stuff and follow him. 

After saying goodbye to the proctor who took your test, you ran out of the room to see Snape's cloaks turning a corner.

You followed quickly, pulling on some loose fabric when you got close enough to him. "What's wrong?! Are you angry with me?" you asked, bewildered. 

He turned around, and his expression was nothing like you had ever seen before. He looked anguished, frustrated. 

"What do you want?" he whisper-shouted, causing you to take a step back in confusion. 

"I just wanted to talk about the OWL. And other things, like we used to. Did something happen?" you questioned, hurt. 

"Fine, you want to talk? Come with me," he said, leading you down to his classroom. When you got inside, he closed the door, then walked back to his office. You followed, apprehensive. 

"Okay, what the hell is your damage?" you asked after he poured himself a drink. Was he high? He sure was acting like it. 

Erratic. Frantic. You were worried.

"What happened the other week, that was a mistake. I don't know why I did that, and I don't know what you... may have seen, or heard, but either way, I was out of line to let you sleep in here," he stated, eyes flickering nervously at you to the couch, then moving to take a seat behind the desk in his office, staring at the fire. 

Oh. "Listen, Professor, I appreciate you letting me take a nap here, and that's all it was. I totally understand you feeling tired and having to sleep also! We're good! It's good! Everything's... good," you trailed off, watching his reaction. You weren't sure if he knew you saw his boner, but clearly, even the fact that you knew he slept by you was enough to cause him distress. 

"Can we just forget it happened? Or are you gonna be weird for two more years?" you asked, taking a seat across from him. He looks back to you, observing your reaction. You smile brightly to try and comfort him, and you suppose it works, because he gave you a small smile in return, but it didn't reach his eyes. 

"So, how were your OWLs?" he asked quietly, and you immediately began speaking rapidly, taking almost an hour to divulge everything you thought. While you talked, Snape interjected with his own questions and quips, and by then end of your spiel, it seemed like everything was back to normal. 

"And then! I was so nervous because I knew I had to beat your Potions score," you ranted, while he scoffed. "But, luckily, as you know, the potion was the Draught of Peace, which I concocted absolutely, brilliantly, perfectly!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms up like the muggle reaction to scoring a goal in football. 

He chuckled, then waved his wand and conjured some butterbeers. "Cheers, Rosaline. Write to me when you get your results. You need an O to make my NEWT class, but I'm sure you will." He clinked his drink against yours, slightly spilling it against your hand. 

You giggled, then gasped. "Oh my Godric! I totally forgot! I'll be right back, stay here!" You scrambled out of your chair, while he watched you warily. Your cloak billowed behind you as you ran out of the room and towards your dorm. 

~

While you were gone, Snape pondered his relationship with you, to his with Lily. 

While you thought that he was worried that you saw his boner, he was worried that you heard him talking in his sleep, about Lily. Though he did say her name, you didn't pay attention to his sleepy mumbles. He was worried you would find out about his true responsibility to school and his teaching position.

He still loved Lily. More than anyone, and anything. He was only alive for her, and thus for Harry. Of course, Harry was still only a child, and he would have to wait to come to Hogwarts, and you knew none of this, not even the story of James and Lily Potter, since you were muggle born.

~

You returned shortly with a small package. "Ta da!" you squealed, holding out the present to a scowling Snape. "C'mon, turn that frown, upside down! Open! Open it! Alohomora!" 

He looked at you with playful disdain."How dare you try to give me something? You know you're supposed to hate your teachers, and want to leave school as soon as possible, right?" 

You mock him with a pout. "Too bad, soursnape! All I _wand_ right now is for you to open your gift!" You sit back in your chair, crossing your legs and waiting with a smile.

He opened the box, and looked back at you, confused. "What... is it?" He pulled out the item from its corner, obviously perplexed.

You gasped in amused horror. "What?! Professor, it's a cassette player! And some of the best mix tapes I've ever compiled, thank you very much." You pointed to the various items as you talked about them. "And before you protest, I checked with Dumbledore, and he assured me that because it doesn't require cable lines or any of that technology, it'll work! You just need to switch out the batteries as you use it." 

He stared at you while you talked about it.

"So, what do you think? I'm sorry it's not the potion, but I couldn't figure out how to make it the best it could be, and we weren't really talking for a couple of weeks there, so I felt weird about using your classroom. And I thought we talked most about music, anyway, and we have similar tastes, so-" you rambled, after he didn't say anything for a while.

"It's fantastic," he cut you off, and picked up the first tape. "You picked out all these songs?"

"Yep. I did some that we talked about before, and then some that I really enjoy, and some that I don't care much for but I know you do. Do you want me to show you how to work it?" You walk to his side of the desk after he nods.

You plugged in the headphones to the jack, and gave one to him and put one in your ear, so you two were somewhat connected by the wires. He watched you as you picked up the first tape, explaining how to place the tape in, and how to know which side would play. 

When you clicked it closed and hit play, the opening notes of Somebody to Love began. You beamed, and looked at him with pride because you managed to set it up right. Yet, he was still watching you, and your smile slightly faltered. 

"What? Do you not like this song?" you asked as Freddie continued to sing about finding love. You picked up the cassette player to press a button. "I can skip to the next track, if you want-"

"No. I like this song a lot," he covered your hand with his to move it off the player, turned it up and closed his eyes. As it played, you looked back and forth from your trembling hands, to his hands, to his face. The whole time, his eyes remained closed, but you thought you saw his brows furrow, and one of the corners of his mouth tremble.

How Soon Is Now? began to play, and you both pulled out an earbud. "Well?" you questioned, looking for any sign of a genuine response from your stoic teacher. "I know it's muggle tech, but I find that I'd rather have a portable music player than a stationary one."

He gave you a shaky smile. "I completely agree. Thanks, Rosaline, really. I'm sorry I was being an arse, you're really going to do great things in your life." 

You cocked your head to the side. That got sentimental fast. "R-right. Yeah." You got up again and began to gather your things. When you got to the doorway, he was already reading the track list on each tape, and you could hear the faint sound of Candidate by David Bowie. You grinned, and started walking. "See you later, alligator!" you called out, and when he looked up again, this time with a wide smile, you waved, and he waved back. 

~later, again~

After the End of Term feast, and your return to the muggle world, you had been nervously awaiting your OWL results by, well, owl. Your parents, finally used to seeing birds peck at their windows, called you down when they saw a tawny owl swoop in through the kitchen window. You barreled down the stairs, plucked the letter from the beak of the owl, and gave it some oats from the pantry. 

Eagerly, you opened the envelope with your parents waiting for your reaction. 

—

_Astronomy... E_

_Care of Magical Creatures... O_

_Charms... P_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts... E_

_Divination... A_

_Herbology... O_

_History of Magic... P_

_Potions... O_

_Transfiguration... E_

—

"Ahhh!" You screamed. You couldn't believe it. Of course, you failed Charms and History of Magic, but everything else, you passed. Not only that, but you got three O's, one of which being Potions. 

You quickly told your parents, then composed a fast letter to Snape.

———

_July 15, 1987_

_Professor Snape,_

_You're hearing this first on the snapevine- I got an O in Potions! You won't be getting rid of me so easily! Failed Charms and History of Magic, but you can't win them all, I suppose. I did also get an O in some classic Hufflepuff courses- Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. I guess I'm a bleeding heart Hufflepuff after all. Can't wait to see you next year and I hope you are having a fantastic summer!_

_Your favorite student,_

_Rosaline Knight_

———

_July 18, 1987_

_Miss Knight,_

_Alas. It seems my plans to thwart you from my class have failed yet again... only joking, of course. Congratulations, and I look forward to seeing you in my class next year. Nice job on the other OWLs, as well, despite the Charms. I wasn't so good at it myself when I was a student, either._

_I have to say, the cassette player has been great this summer, although I do not think it is appropriate that you put Hi,Hi,Hi on one of the tracks. You do know I'm your teacher, right? Also, you could've warned me that batteries can run out so fast._

_I hope you're having a great summer as well. Soak up the freedom while you can._

_Your favorite professor,_

_Severus Snape_

_P.S. Any other song suggestions?_

———

  
  



	8. live and let die - wings

**Early January 1988**

"Not only should we question the opinion of a sentient hat, but we should question the morals of the person who constructed such an item! We let a bloody hat determine where we sleep, our roommates, and who we hang out with for seven years of our lives? Seven long, formative years? Also, it's important to recognize the importance of exchanging various ideas and beliefs, not just resigning us to the opinions we have in common with one another. Wouldn't it be much more prudent to mix up the children, so their ideas can mingle? One could easily understand how Death Eaters could target Slytherins, the cast asides, the outcasts. The other houses regarded the Slytherins as evil. No wonder most felt compelled to join You-Know-Who; they were declared 'evil' from the moment they stepped inside the school, at bloody eleven years old! Therefore, I believe that the house process in Hogwarts needs drastic improvement and change to end the systematic prejudice of house relations. Thank you," you ardently spoke, taking a small bow after your speech.

"Sick!" Bill exclaimed, grabbing you into a tight hug. You laughed and pecked his cheek. You and Bill Weasley had been dating for four months, since the sixth year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were placed in the same Transfiguration class.

"So," he looked at you playfully, "why are you doing all this again? I agree it's important, but it's been done this way for centuries, babe. Plus, we met even though we were in different houses, right?"

"Bill," you implored, squeezing yourself next to him on the armchair, his arm looping around your shoulder, "you have to admit it's weird that a blasted hat decides where you'll reside for your educational career, especially that it does so by reading your brain! And deciding after a minute, 'oh look! This child is smart! Ravenclaw it is, then!'"

You waited for his reply. "You're so right. How have I never realized that before?" he asked, tilting your face into a real kiss. 

You were in the Room of Requirement, practicing your speech to Dumbledore about altering the house system. Everyone (except Gryffindors) saw how the houses were treated differently, especially after the House Cup Tournament of '85, where Gryffindor won, yet again, because Dumbledore awarded an extra 100 points due to 'committing to what they believed was right in the face of peril,' or some other bullshit, all because some third years didn't let the their friend steal a lollipop from Honeyduke's. Utter rubbish.

You stood up, and held out your hand for Bill. He grumbled, then stood up as well. "C'mon, Weasley. We have to go to dinner at some point."

He groaned, slumping against you. "Bill! I'll even hold your hand as we go. You can sit at Hufflepuff table with me."

He sighed in mock exasperation, "Fine, but they better have chicken tonight."

You both exited the Room of Requirement and made your way to the Great Hall, holding hands and discussing the newest The Cure album.

"Just Like Heaven is going to be a classic, I can feel it," you stated, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He let you sit down, then sat next to you, releasing his hold on your hand as you started eating. "I like Torture, but honestly, mostly because Dad tried to put it on the record player and it was so loud, he nearly snapped off the needle in his suprise," he answered, causing you to giggle. "Oi, look at your favorite professor, he's got owl eyes again."

You looked up to the teachers at the front of the Great Hall, and sure enough, Snape was staring at you with wide eyes. You playfully gave him a peace sign, while Bill gave a two finger salute. He quickly looked down at his wine and drank it in large gulps.

Bill rolled his eyes. "What's the stick up his arse? He's an old rotter, innhe?"

You snorted. "I think he's upset because his birthday is tomorrow. He'll be a ripe old 28. Plus, I forced him into meeting with me later to discuss my speech. Jeez, he really does look extra constipated, though." You looked over at him again, but he was talking with Flitwick, holding a new glass of wine.

You and Bill continued talking, and about thirty minutes later, you checked the time and decided to leave to meet Snape. He had left the professor table already, so you began making your way to the dungeons alone. Bill gave you a high five, then went to Gryffindor table to spend the rest of dinner with his friends. You did like Bill. He was quite popular, prefect of Gryffindor, and really smart. You got on swimmingly with each other. Well, you mostly kissed, but when you did talk, it was good also. You didn't really feel sparks, but you chalked that up to it being a high school romance. 

Definitely _not because you were quite taken with Snape._

Okay, maybe that was why. You decided to try and date someone in your attempt to get over your crush on Snape. Or, at the least, convince yourself that if you could kiss someone without feeling sick to your stomach, then you weren't in love with Snape. You knew it would be awkward if you continued to see your professor so much, especially since you knew he didn't reciprocate, so when school started, you tried to stop going to his classroom after school as much. Yet, after not going at all after the first two weeks, Snape asked to see you one day after Potions.

You remembered the exchange as you walked to his classroom.

-

_"Knight, is everything alright?" he asked, visibly concerned. You tried to keep a blank face while internally, you fought the urge to fucking run up and snog the daylights out of him._

_"I'm fine, sir, why?"_

_"I figured you would come to see me after class at some point. I know how much you love bothering me, and you just, really, haven't... been. Not only have you not been bothering me, but you haven't really even acknowledged me. Did you even hear the pun I made today?" he asked, while urging you into his office._

_Your cool demeanor faltered as you replied, "Sorry. I was just really busy, um, you know. NEWT level classes are not for the lighthearted."_

_He furrowed his brows. "Yes, obviously. I assumed as much when you didn't show up the first week, but you still haven't shown up, so I was wondering if I did something? Or did something else happen?" He was still looking at you with that damned concerned expression. Bloody hell, has he always been that attractive, or was it some kind of weird affect of you not seeing him for a few months?_

_"Yeah, no, everything is fine! I was just getting into the swing of things, I guess. I'll be back soon, but it won't be as often. I still like hanging out with you, don't worry," you replied, giving him what you hoped to be a reassuring smile. When he smiled back, relieved, you made another small comment. "Nerd."_

_He rolled his eyes. "Glad to see the old Rosaline again. Why do I dig myself into these situations? So, how's everything going?"_

-

Ever since then, you went to his classroom after school about once a week, which was all you could take before you felt the urge to just _jump his bloodybonesalready_ \- no. You were with Bill. Bill, who in the dark, kind of looked like Snape with his long hair- NO. No. Not happening. Snape was your professor, Bill was your boyfriend. Your completely appropriate, and kind boyfriend.

You nodded to yourself, a self assured grin forming on your face. It's fine! Everything is fine. Although you hadn't been alone with Snape after dinner since discovering your attraction, you were sure that you could maintain your composure while you gave your speech and he made his comments. It would be fine.

You knocked on his classroom door, where he answered with a bright grin. "Rosaline! My favorite student! Great, come in!"

That's not normal. He may treat you nicer than other students, but he never did anything in a 'bright' manner.

You walked in with your own cautious, tight lipped smile. "Hey, Snape. Have you been, um, drinking the giggle juice?" you mimed drinking, while trying to meet his extremely happy gaze.

He laughed heartily, "Oh, you know. A little wine and a little firewhiskey doesn't hurt anyone. Maybe it hurt my hand after squeezing that fifth glass too hard," he held up his left hand, bandaged heavily, "but it happens. Come to my cave! I want to hear this speech you..." he laughed as he trailed off, forgetting what he was saying.

"Shit," you whispered, watching him dance/walk to his office, faintly hearing Sir Duke play from his office, "oh, no. I'm such as bad person for enjoying this." You followed him to his office, where he flicked his wand and made it close, giving it an extra wave to make it lock. That seemed... bad.

"Go! Speech! Speech! Speech!" he chanted, clutching a new glass of an amber liquid. Your eyes widened in shock.

"Okay, in a minute. Sir, are you okay? Do you maybe want to cool it with the drinks? This might make me seem like a buzzkill, but why did you consume a shit ton of alcohol? I mean, it's Friday and all, but..." you shrugged, gauging his reaction. His mouth was open in boredom.

"Rosaline. Rose. Listen, shhh," he held his finger in the air as the next track started on the Stevie Wonder record. "Do you- hicc- do you remember? You put this on the fifth tape you sent me? Side A?"

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. The song was Isn't She Lovely, and while you did remember putting it on a mix, you certainly didn't remember the exact Side and tape you sent it on.

"You! It's you who's lovely! Ha!" he hiccuped. "I shouldn't have said that. Oops!" He drank the rest of the liquid and refilled it.

"Hey, maybe you should take a break. Just for a minute, okay? Let's just listen to the music for a second? How does that sound?" you asked, trying to ignore what he was saying. You knew he was drunk, it's not like he was under Veritaserum- he didn't know what he was saying, and hopefully would remember none of it.

"You always have ideas, that's what's so great about you. You think," he pointed to his head, spilling his drink while doing so, "and that's important. Even though you thought it was a good idea to date Weasley! Ugh, how could you date him? Okay, skip to the next song, then, smarty pants!"

You warily walked to the record player, shaking your head, and you moved the needle to the next song. When it began, you quickly shut your eyes in frustration. I Just Called to Say I Love You began.

"Ha! This- this is like when I sent you letters! I was just mailing-hicc- to say I love you!" he shouted, downing yet another drink.

You froze. No, he didn't mean it. There was no way he meant it.

"No, wait, that's not true," he said, frowning. You deeply exhaled the breath you were holding. "I love Lily, and I can't love you and Lily, right? So I... I must not love you, because I can't not love Lily." His lip began trembling, and he looked like he was about to cry.

You had no idea who Lily is, but you decided that was enough. You felt like you were reading his thoughts, and it felt gross. You walked over to him and plucked the drink out of his hand, making him pout.

"What the devil is going on here? That's not sick! Remember when you said that? You love saying things like that." He hiccuped, then groped the air for the drink, completely missing you and the hand that held it.

"It's okay, it's okay. I think you should just drink some of this mysterious clear drink first. It tastes really good, trust me." You emptied the glass with the firewhiskey, and Aguamenti-ed it to fill it with water.

You passed it to him, and stared while he gulped the whole thing. You kept filling it, and he kept drinking it, until he loudly declared he had to use the restroom, leaving you alone in his office.

You put your head in your hands as you thought about the clusterfuck that just happened. Obviously, something was wrong. In all your years of knowing him, Snape never, ever drank so heavily that he actually appeared and acted drunk. He's drank in front of you before, sure, but he was never drunk.

And, obviously, his ranting about loving you were completely drunken and incoherent. Whoever the Lily person was, that's who he loved, obviously. Obviously! Yet, while you tried to not become happy about what he said, there was a part of you that was squealing and couldn't believe he was admitting all those things to you. The rational side, however, unanimously agreed that the most important thing to do would be to sober him up, and leave as soon as possible.

So, when he returned to the room, wearing only his dress slacks and a black tee shirt, having apparently lost his robes along the way, you ignored the part of you that was drooling, and you sat Snape down on couch.

"Do you feel any better?" you asked, conjuring another glass of water. "I'm going to go get a Sobering Potion, so just wait here, okay?"

You stood up, and began to walk towards the door, when it shut and locked again, you turning around to see Snape shaking. "Please, don't go Lily. Come back. I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean it. It was dumb, so dumb!"

Your face mirrored his distress, but heavily influenced by grave concern. "Snape, please calm down. I'm not Lily. She's not here. I'm Rose. And everything is alright. You're in Hogwarts," you pleaded, hoping he would remember.

"Lily, please. I told him not to... but he still did. Even Dumbl... it's all my fault. I'm an awful person. I'm sorry!"

"Snape, it's okay. Lily isn't here. She's... okay. She's not here, but she's fine. Just please calm down," you said, rubbing his back. He looked up at you with tears in his eyes.

His eyes widened in faint recognition. "Rose. Just stay here, please," He pulled you back down to lie with him as the couch expanded to fit both of you. You tried to get up again, but he held you tighter. "I've always spent my birthday alone. Just stay until tomorrow, Rosaline. Please."

Your eyes scrunched closed in an almost fearful sadness, but also you were surprised. You had no idea what the actual fuck was going on, but you did know that it sucked to be alone on your birthday. So, against your better judgement, you stayed next to him (mostly because he had a bloody death grip on you) until he nodded off.

After about a half an hour, he had released you and you were able to get up, unlock the door, and rummage through his cabinets for a Sobering Potion. Even though you looked everywhere, there wasn't one to be found, so you decided to quickly brew one in the cauldron furthest from his office.

After accidentally burning yourself, you successfully made a Sobering Potion and brought it back to him.

Gently, you shook him awake."Professor? Can you drink this really quick?" He grabbed the vial and slugged the potion, handing you the empty tube. Almost immediately, his eyes cleared and he looked at you blearily in the darkness.

"Knight?" his deep voice, slightly rugged from sleep asked. "What are you doing in here?"

Okay, that's good. He didn't remember. Did you have an obligation to tell him what happened, or should you just leave it alone? Merlin, why isn't there some kind of 'What To Do If the Man You Adore Is Also Your Teacher and He Just Declared Some Pretty Bold Statements To You While Drunk' guide?

"I came down to, um, read you my speech for tomorrow, and you were kinda plastered, so you just fell asleep after we talked for a few minutes. I just gave you a Sobering Potion," you said, deciding that sounded the least problematic.

He made a brief sound of anguish. "What? Oh my god, I'm so sorry. That's so incredibly inappropriate of me. Did I say or do anything bad?" He looked at you with fierce and confused eyes.

"No! No, of course not. Well, not really. You did keep mentioning someone named Lily, and you thought I was her for a moment, but that's it. You didn't do anything, okay? And whatever you said, I know you were just under the influence, okay? Everything is alright," you whispered back to him, and he groaned again. He mumbled a bit, and then looked at you again.

"I talked about Lily?"

"Yeah. You seemed pretty concerned about her, and you kept asking for forgiveness. And you said you loved her. A lot, actually. But seriously, don't worry about it right now. Just go back to sleep. I'll stay here with you." You conjured another couch and tiptoed over to it. He began to protest, but you just lied down. "I want to make sure you don't choke on your inevitable vomit. Just because you took a Sobering Potion doesn't mean you won't have a hangover, trust me." You began to fluff up your pillows, hoping to hear a laugh, but nothing came. You looked back over at him, and he was already asleep.

You curled up on the couch and watched his face as the frown lines and worry wrinkles smoothed out, his hands releasing their tension from the pillow he was gripping, and his eyebrows returning to their natural state of flatness. You sighed in relief, then turned the other way and quickly fell to sleep.

The next morning, when you woke up, Snape was already gone. That kinda sucked. You were going to summon a birthday cake to his office.

You went to the restroom, and when you came back, Snape still wasn't there, so you just decided to leave, especially because your speech to Dumbledore would be right after breakfast.

But, when you left the office and looked at the classroom, your heart slightly melted. There was your professor, with a massive breakfast spread out across two desks pushed together, and he wore a birthday hat, and a frown. When he saw you, though, he immediately perked up and held up his hand in greeting.

You laughed, "Now, what the hell is going on here?"

He gave you a sheepish smile. "Well, it seems that Dumbledore alerted the house elves that it was my birthday, and they sent this up. And I certainly cannot finish all this myself, so..."

You ran up to him and gave him a hug. "Happy birthday, man! You old geezer!" You proceeded to give him 28 (light) punches in the arm, with one for good luck. He looked at you with disdain during the process. "What, you've never gotten birthday punches? Maybe it's a muggle thing. We sure do love unnecessary violence."

He looked at you reproachfully, "I also wanted to apologize again for last night. I think the looming presence of death made me lash out in harmful habits, and for that, I'm deeply sorry." You looked at him with curiosity, surprised at his heartfelt revelation. He smiled to let you know he was being dramatic, and you gave a light laugh.

After both of you ate your fill, you had an idea. "Oh, wait, hold on! Where's your record player?" You ran back to his office to his cabinet with records. He had a Beatles Best Hits vinyl, which luckily had the song you were looking for on it.

When you came back with the record hidden behind your back, the record player was on his desk, needle poised and ready to be placed. Quickly, you placed the record, and moved the needle to the track, Birthday.

_"They say it's your birthday_   
_Well it's my birthday too, yeah_   
_They say it's your birthday_   
_We're gonna have a good time_   
_I'm glad it's your birthday_   
_Happy birthday to you!"_

You sang along, while Snape laughed at your dancing. As the second verse rolled around, you went to his side of the table and pulled him up while he protested.

"C'mon, you have to dance on your birthday! Get up, let's go!" You dragged him to the empty floors as the song continued. You sang along with the song and danced with your eyes closed, dramatically air playing the guitar.

 _(You couldn't see it, but not only was Snape not dancing (how_ dare _he), he was staring at you, thinking, 'oh shit, I can't... not her.')_

Then, all too soon, the next song on the record played, and it was definitively not a birthday song, but a fantastic one nevertheless- Something.

You opened your eyes and gave him another grin, "This song is my absolute favorite."

"Really?" he asked, mouth dry. He was staring at you in a way he never had before, and you didn't know what to think of it.

You pulled him close to you and danced while hugging him. He could feel your heart beating faster, his quickening to match yours. He pulled back and leaned down towards your mouth, eyes closed.

Well. That escalated fast. You were, obviously, freaking out. There was your teacher, who you fancied, and he was going to kiss you.

_"Something in the way she knows_   
_And all I have to do is think of her_   
_Something in the things she shows me..."_

You pulled away before your lips could touch, and he opened his eyes. You both looked at each other, and he stepped back.

"Fuck. Fuck, Rosaline, I'm sorry. God, why do I always mess up around you? What do you... what do you do to me?" he asked to himself, walking quickly to the record player and removing the vinyl, making the needle scratch it.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, holding your trembling hands. "I'm going to go. Can we talk later today? Please?"

He just looked back at you and slammed the door to his office. You raised a hand to your mouth in disbelief as you grabbed your bag and walked out, giving one last look before you left.

 _'Oh, great,'_ you thought. _'Now I have to give a speech to Dumbledore, while this shit is still in my mind.'_

And with that thought, you walked up to Dumbledore's office and knocked on the door.


	9. waterfalls - paul mccartney

**Early January 1988**

The gargoyle swung to the side as the office was exposed. Dumbledore stepped out with a large grin.

"Miss Knight! Wonderful, thank you for being punctual. I always say that timeliness is a virtue! Come in, come in," Dumbledore beckoned you into his large office. He was known as a kind and professional headmaster, which you mostly agreed with, but you did have a problem with his blatant favoritism towards Gryffindors.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, which probably looked more like a grimace. You were still reeling over the Snape thing. Had he still been drunk from last night? Did you make the Sobering Potion wrong? Even though you were a great Potions student, it's very possible. You were quite distracted when you concocted it. But, nevertheless, he couldn't have been thinking clearly when he tried to kiss you. And although you had been tempted, so, so tempted to lean up and kiss him, you knew it was wrong. He was your professor, and honestly, your best friend. It would ruin everything if you kissed him, not to mention your relationship with Bill.

Merlin. You forgot about Bill. You had to break up with him. Sure, you didn't technically do anything, but you felt extremely guilty about harboring feelings for someone else while dating him. You had made up your mind: you would call things off with him right after your meeting.

Oh, bloody hell. Now Dumbledore is looking at you weird, and you were almost positive he could read minds.

"Whew, sorry there! I was completely off in my thoughts," you exclaimed as you walked to his desk and sat in the chair, where he had already been seated, and cradled a cup of tea.

"Not a problem at all, my dear! I am very excited to hear the speech you have prepared. I appreciate the dedication that must of went into such a presentation," he beamed once more, and leaned back in his chair.

"Thank you, sir."

You told him the speech that you had recited the other day to Bill, which would've been better with Snape's comments, you were sure, but it was obviously past that point.

"That was certainly enlightening. Would you like to hear why I have maintained the same procedure for sorting, like previous headmasters?" he asked after you spoke.

"That would be wonderful, but could I ask you a few questions first? I mean no offense by any of them, I completely respect you, and only wish for some answers to what I think are perfectly reasonable objections," You sipped your tea, catching the Headmaster's brief flash of surprise at your slight insubordination.

"Of course, I would be delighted to answer them," he replied.

"Well, my first question would be, do you believe that your own house placement affected how you treat certain houses?"

"I suppose I may be guilty of sometimes, um, influencing my decisions based on my own house-"

"Holding bias, sir?"

"Do not interrupt me, Miss Knight. You may have good points to consider, but I am still your Headmaster," he told you sternly, his cool demeanor faltering, while you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You hated blind respect and blind trust of the man. _Always_ question the man. "As I was saying, I do think I may treat the Gryffindors with a bit of a, as you call it, bias, but I firmly believe it has no impact on the education and futures of the students."

"I have to say, sir, I strongly disagree. I'm certainly not blaming you for the uprising of You-Know-Who, and I revere the role you played in stopping him in the War, but I also believe that all students need equal opportunity and, well, kindness. The Death Eaters recruited Slytherins because of the pre-held notion other houses believed in, that being that since _some_ Slytherin sorted students didn't turn out so well, that would mean all of them were bad. Don't you agree that that kind of thinking is dangerous?" you replied fiercely.

"Yes, absolutely, but I don't feel it is my position to enforce my beliefs onto the students. They have the ability to change their minds, and I certainly won't discourage that!" Dumbledore's composure faltered, seemingly not expected to have to defend himself so aggressively to student.

You furrowed your brows even more. "It's not your responsibility as Headmaster to encourage your students not to hold prejudiced beliefs against their classmates? Forgive my language, sir, but isn't that exactly what you should strive to do? What the hell is the point of being Headmaster if you don't try to make things better for your students?" you spoke loudly, becoming quite angry.

"You misunderstood me! Of course I want the students to become better people, and treat others with respect, but I need to remain unbiased!"

"Unbiased? Unbiased?! We just agreed that you already treat your students with bias, and now that you have to make a stance on what is right and wrong, you say you actually _aren't_ biased? Sir, if you don't understand your own position, we cannot have this conversation right now," You stood up, and held out your hand. "I hope you think about this and allow me to talk to you again soon. Thank you for your time."

He looked at you up and down, annoyed and angry, "Very well. Yes, I think we need to continue this soon. You have given me a lot to consider."

He shook your hand quickly and hard, then began to walk you to the door. "You know, you would've made a good Gryffindor. Quite passionate in what you believe in, and certainly brave enough-"

You cut him off again. "Professor, you're just proving my point even more. No student fits into one bubble of personality. Everyone is brave, everyone is loyal. I'm in Hufflepuff because a blasted Hat read my mind and saw something that made it think I should associate myself with sunshine and badgers."

He clenched his jaw. "I will not remind you to not interrupt me again. I told you I that I will think about what you said, and I will. So, please, have a good day."

He ushered you out of his office, leaving you with a satisfied smile. Surprisingly, that was the best possible solution besides him immediately agreeing to change the system. You knew he would put up a fight, being the old codger he was, but surely, he saw his own hypocrisy, and you knew you could change his mind, and improve Hogwarts.

With a skip in your step, you made your way to the Hufflepuff common room. When you reached your dorm, you swung it open with a large grin. The view that greeted you made you stop in shock.

"Woah, deja vu!" you laughed. "What's got you guys so tight?"

The girls were on their beds, staring at you. It reminded you of last year, when you got back from Snape's.

Snape. Oh, shit. You forgot about that while you were pumped about the Dumbledore meeting.

"Where the hell were you?" Diana shouted, throwing a pillow at you.

You hesitantly opened your mouth to spill everything, but Violet began talking first.

"We were so worried! Just because you've got a fellow to sneak around with doesn't mean you can scare us like that!" Violet exclaimed.

Your eyebrows rose. They assumed you were with Bill, which did make sense, because obviously, he was your boyfriend. "I, well, I actually wasn't with him. And I'm going to break up with him right now."

Their faces of anger morphed into shock. "What?" They all exclaimed.

"I just don't love him. He's a good friend, but not as a romantic partner or anything," You said, backing up to leave again. "So, I'll be right back, if you don't mind..."

"Wait!" Helena shouted. "Where were you, then? Were you with someone else?"

Okay, you could come clean and tell them everything. Explain the Snape situation, and every mixed signal and secret glance and close call. Or not. "Oh, I just fell asleep in the Room of Requirement again. I was practicing my speech, which I killed by the way, and I got tired, and a bed popped up, so I went to sleep," you shrugged, the lie easily falling off your tongue because it did happen to you before, just not this time.

"You can't scare us like this again, okay?" Violet replied, giving you a hug. You rolled your eyes, and hugged her back with a small smile. Jeez, you may not believe in the house system, but you did feel lucky to be in the one with the nicest members. Again, that proves why there shouldn't be houses, and there should be exceptionally kind students throughout the class, but you digress.

"I'm sorry, all of you. But, I must flee and break my soon to be ex-boyfriend's heart. So, I bid you all, adieu."

You waved, and left the room again, letting out a heavy breath. With grim determination, you walked throughout the school to the Gryffindor common rooms, and asked the Fat Lady to tell Bill you were outside. A few minutes later, he showed up with a smile. You gave a weak one back.

"Hey, how was your speech?" he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders and walking with you in the corridor.

You gently took his arm off of you. "It went alright, but listen, Bill. I have to tell you, I don't want to be in a relationship with you anymore. Not romantically," you paused, watching his smile fall, and his carefree expression grow tense. "I really do care about you, and you're great. I just don't think it's meant to be."

"What? Did something happen? I thought we were getting on great," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

"No, nothing like that. This is going to sound so cliché, but it's really not you, it's me. I know you will find someone fantastic for you, but right now," you paused, tucking some hair behind your ear. "I want to focus on my future."

He observed you for a moment, then shrugged. "Okay, then. I have to say I'm a little surprised, but I guess I do understand that we weren't very serious. I thought we got on pretty well, but whatever. It was fun while it lasted," he said, and gave you a small wave as he walked back.

"Wait!" you exclaimed, him turning around. "Thank you for understanding! Friends?" You held out your hand.

"I need a bit of time? But sure, friends." He high-fived you, and walked back to the Gryffindor common room.

Well, that went extremely better than expected. He really was great, but you couldn't keep up the charade of fancying him when you liked Snape.

 _'Holy shit. I fancy Snape. Like, actually,'_ You thought as you walked back downstairs to the Hufflepuff common room. _'And I'm not going to do a damn thing about it.'_

You made it to the outside of the room and groaned. You had been walking back and forth all day, and you still needed to meet with Snape and discuss everything. But, no matter what, you could not pursue a relationship with him, despite you being of age. He's your teacher, and you still needed to pass a year of school. You bit your lip, then veered off to his classroom.

With a set determination, you knocked on his door, and there he stood. He wore his usual black dress robes, a scowl, and eyebrows drawn in distaste. "What do you want?"

You looked up at his black eyes. "We need to discuss some things, and we will do so in a professional manner."

He smirked, quite meanly. "Oh, really? Well, I think we have nothing to discuss at all," he began to close the door, when you propped your foot in between to stop it. "What do you want, Miss Knight? I simply do not have the time to talk to you."

You pushed open the door and closed it behind you. Immediately, he walked away and sat behind his desk. "Why are you acting so cold? If you're worried I'm cross with you, I'm not, at all. But, we do need to talk about what happened," you said, taking a seat across from him.

"I will not presume to know what you are talking about. All I can think of is that you gave me an incompetent dosage of a Sobering Potion, which, while it was done in good faith, it was not correct. So, this morning, I was still intoxicated-"

"Why are you lying?! We both know what happened, and like I said, I'm not angry! I know you don't love me, because you love Lily, you told me yourself, and I would be a fool to believe otherwise," you interrupted, pulling your feet up onto the desk to become more comfortable.

He spoke with his teeth clenched, and pushed your feet off. "What are you babbling on about? What do you mean, 'I told you myself'?"

You took a deep breath, then looked at him again. "Last night, while you were drunk, you said some things to me, and I know they didn't make sense, but-"

"What. Did. I. Say?" he cut you off, fuming.

"It doesn't matter! The point is that-"

"Rosaline, if I have to use Veritaserum, I will. Now, tell me what I said last night," he spoke in a threatening tone.

You closed your eyes, and spoke. "You said various things about me being 'lovely,' you said you wrote to me over the summer as a way to say you loved me, and then you said that it wasn't possible for you to love me, because you 'can't not love Lily,'" you recited, opening your eyes again to see him looking at you in anger.

"You understand that I meant none of that, right? I was under the influence, and what I said isn't accurate, okay?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, then stood up. "Nevertheless, I was irresponsible and it was inexcusable to present myself in such a way in front of a student, so I will resign right now."

He walked to the door, and you quickly moved in front of it to block him.

"Move, you stupid girl! Do you expect me to propose my love for you? I'm your professor," he paused, towering over your frame, "and you are my student."

"Exactly!" you cried out remaining where you were. "I need you to keep teaching me! I will never be able to pass the NEWT if you leave. We both know that there's nothing here, so there's no reason for you to quit! I understand that it was my mistake, and a lapse in judgement. It was a simple misunderstanding. Please, Professor, I only have a year and a half left, and then I'll be gone for good."

"I will think about it, but for now, you need to go. I can't... I can't focus while you are here," he opened the door magically, and gently pushed you out. "Goodbye." He closed the door behind you.

"Please, hold on!" you exclaimed, rapping your knuckles on the door. He didn't answer initially, but after a few moments he did with a softened frown.

"What now?" he asked, tense. You slowly walked back into the room, and he backed up to avoid getting too close. "What are you doing?"

"I need to ask you something," you replied nervously. "I want to know who Lily is, and if you really love her. That's it. Please, tell me."

He sighed, and let out a shaky sigh. "I can't."

"Are you sure? I won't judge you, I just... I have to know. Is she your girlfriend?" you asked, wringing your hands together.

He grimaced. "No, she wasn't my girlfriend. She was someone very important to me, and I made a mistake, a horrible, evil mistake, and so we weren't friends anymore," he took a pause, and looked at you. "I love her, and I can never not love her. I don't know what you may think is going on between us, but she will always, always be my one true love."

You nodded gravely. "Okay. I'll leave you then. Thanks for telling me."

He showed you to the door again, and gently closed it shut behind you. You ran back to the Hufflepuff common room, and collapsed on a chair by the fireplace.

So, he loved someone else, who probably died by the sound of it. Even drunk Snape knew that she, Lily, was the only one for him. Is that it, then? Was your professor simply your professor, and it would never be anything more? You felt an overwhelming sensation of pity and loss. You _really_ loved him, his sourness included, and it would never mean anything.


	10. cool for cats - squeeze

**May 1988**

The rest of January was a mixture of embarrassment and awkwardness. You consistently tried to avoid making even the slightest acknowledgement of Snape, and while you thought it would be difficult, which it was, you didn't expect how utterly embarrassed you would get when he walked in.

Those first few weeks were the hardest. Sometimes, he would just stand in the doorway waiting for the class to quiet. He would just stand there, surveying the class, purposefully ignoring you. He looked completely gorgeous, and your face never failed to flush when he simply leaned on the doorframe, confidence exuding from his tall frame. You would immediately hide behind your hands, or a textbook, and hope he wouldn't see your blush.

But then, he would speak. And Morgana, how had you never noticed how completely self assured he sounded, dominating an entire room full of people? You had to focus all your energy in just working, goddammit, and not look up at him and meet those piercing dark eyes. You figured the butterflies would leave after his rejection that night in the classroom, but they never did. Every damn time you saw him, you could feel your heart slightly flutter in adoration.

From being apart from him outside of class, however, you realized, _'oh shit, I actually don't really love Potions,'_ and you threw yourself into Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology. You figured out that you mostly liked Potions for the company. You had a natural talent for Potions, but didn't really have the passion for it.

So, in realizing that, you were able to ignore your crush and just focus on school. Yeah, it still lingered, and you still couldn't trust yourself to ask him questions without bursting out in a red flush, but after that first month, everything was back to normal. A new, uncharted normal, sure, but it was more comfortable than constantly averting his gaze. It was like being a first year again, navigating around each other like you didn't know _almost every bloody thing about each other_. He became just your Potions professor.

Your friends noticed the difference, of course, when you spent a lot more time in the library and in the courtyard, or with Professor Sprout in the greenhouses, than in the dungeons. They asked you about it, and you always said something along the lines of, _'I think Professor Snape has finally had enough of me,'_ or _'I did have a bit of a crush on him, but we didn't have chemistry.'_ That last one always got a few groans, and they understood that there was more to the story, but didn't push it.

You and Dumbledore had also had quite a few meetings over the months since the first one. They nearly always begin over tea, and ended in arguing. Even the portraits gave their opinions, with Dexter Fortescue, and surprisingly, Phineas Nigellus Black on your side. Black was a bit of a shock since his family was known to be a purist, traditional bunch, but he agreed that Slytherins got a bad rep and didn't deserved to be judged based on the actions of others. His statements were usually followed by muggle born harassment, with several choice words, however, so you usually had to cover him with a curtain afterward. You did think you were slowly persuading Dumbledore, though.

Several months later, right before school ended, you had to sort out your future. You knew that Potions wasn't in your cards, and neither was he, and you had to change a few things to fit that revelation. In fact, you had a meeting with your Head of House, Professor Sprout, to discuss the change in what you wanted to do post Hogwarts. So, one afternoon in May, you sheepishly met Sprout in the greenhouses for a meeting.

"Rosaline! Excellent to see you. Could you just water the Snargaluffs quickly... there you go, great. Okay, let's go into my office, dear," Professor Sprout said with a thankful grin, and led you to her office off to the side of Greenhouse 6. Even though you did spend the most time with Professor Snape throughout your years in school, Professor Sprout was also a great help and gave you a lot of advice in various aspects of your life.

"So, you wanted to have a meeting about your future occupation, right?" she asked, pulling your file from a magically enlarged file cabinet.

"Well, I've been thinking about this since... Yule," you said, making up a small lie. You couldn't say Snape's birthday, could you? "And I can't see myself in Potions, honestly. I'll still take the NEWT for it, since its useful in other occupations, but now, you see, I'm at a bit of a complication," you sighed. "I have no idea what to do."

She gave you a reassuring smile. "You're doing excellent in Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures. I can see you excelling as a Healer. Does that interest you?"

You straightened in your chair a bit, and beamed. "How about a veterinarian?"

She looked confused. "A what?"

"Oh, maybe that's a muggle term. I mean, a Healer for animals. Is that a job in the Wizarding World?" you asked. It honestly seemed perfect. You liked working hands on, and you loved animals. Plus, your Potions knowledge wouldn't go to waste as you would need to know how to concoct various Healing Potions and Elixirs.

"You could work in a pet shop, or perhaps the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. We don't have specific hospitals for animals, though," she replied, and pulled several pamphlets from a drawer in her desk. "Take a look at these, and let me know if anything catches your interest."

You give her a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Professor Sprout, you've been very helpful. Let me know if you need me to come in outside of class to help with the Mandrakes, okay? I know they're acting particularly angsty at this point."

"I'm sure I will need your help. You know Nym Tonks? They have been causing trouble with the Venomous Tentacula, and it's been causing severe distress to the other plants," Sprout shuddered and instinctively stroked the Wiggentree on her desk.

You laughed loudly."Tonks? They're the best! Greatest fourth year in the whole school. They're incredible."

"They have potential, but need to sort out their priorities." She vanished your file from her desk, and looked at you with motherly concern. "Is everything else alright? No problems with friends, or anything?"

You beamed. "Nope! I've been okay. I was just worried about how not focusing on Potions as much would affect my career. But I'll take a look at these," you said, holding up the pamphlets, "and I'll let you know what I think."

She stood up and gave you a pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. Let me know if you need anything, of course."

You gave her a smile and a wave, then left the greenhouses and strolled through the courtyard, sitting at the fountain for a while. You flipped through the pamphlets with a grin. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures seemed a bit to focused on _pest control_ , not actually caring for the animals, so that left your mind of possibilities. The idea of working in a pet shop seemed enticing, and the most probable of the options, but you wanted to actually help animals, not sell them like mere items.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. You could open your own practice! You squealed in excitement, causing a few second year Slytherins to look at you and giggle behind their hands. Whatever, let them laugh- you were going to actually help the magical world, and be your own boss! You would be able to assist animals specifically based on their breed, or kingdom, and offer a variety of products and services. It could be perfect!

You laid down on the cool stone of the fountain, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face, a large, lazy grin resting on your face, and eyes closed. You could use your education from Potions and Herbology to concoct medicines and salves, and everything you learned from COMC to comfort and understand the animals. You could feel yourself drifting off to a pleasant sleep when a deep voice cleared its throat.

"Taking a nap in the middle of the courtyard, Miss Knight?" Snape asked. You could almost hear his frown.

You kept your grin, his sourness unable to shake you after your revelation. "I sure hope so, any other reason to have my eyes closed would be quite curious," you opened an eye carefully to see that he was looking down at you with a frown, yes, but his eyes held amusement at your reply. "Is that against the rules now?"

He snorted, then composed himself quickly. "I believe it's uncouth, but there is no rule explicitly stating, 'no sleeping on a fountain, precariously close to water,' no."

You closed your eyes again, fighting the red that creeped across your cheeks. "Lucky being uncouth isn't a crime, then. Now, are you just going to sulk over me, or would you like to take a seat?"

You internally cursed yourself. Why, why did you have to make things difficult all the time? Even if he did agree to take a seat, you would then have to _engage in conversation like a normal bloody person-_

You didn't hear anything for a few moments, then his quiet voice spoke up, "I suppose I could sit for a moment." You felt the his hands lift your feet from where they were stretched, and sat where they once rested. You swallowed in surprise. Why did _he_ have to make things so difficult? You considered pulling your legs up to bend at the knee, leaving space between you two, but you just decided to lay your legs on top of his thighs. After a bit of a pause, he talked again. "So, what's up?" He sounded careful, but you just decided to act like it wasn't extremely weird to converse like old times.

"I was visiting Professor Sprout. I needed to discuss some things, and then I decided to come here and relax," you replied, lifting your head to see him looking at the pamphlets you had left on the bricks underneath the fountain.

"What are these?" he asked, voice curious.

"I was going over different job prospects, since Potions isn't really... for me, I realized," you answered honestly, sitting back up and crossing your legs. You began to speak again in an excited tone, "I actually think I want to-"

He cut you off, turning his head to look at you entirely. "What do you mean, Potions isn't for you? You're excellent at Potions! You're damn near as good as me, in fact," he slightly blushed after admitting that, and cast his gaze back down to the papers.

You rolled your eyes in good humor. "Morgana, thank you! I think that's the nicest compliment you've ever given me. But, I just don't think Potions is right for me, after thinking it over."

He looked bewildered, a frown reappearing. "I can't let you throw away your potential at Potions. Speaking as your professor, of course. If I have to talk to Dumbledore into making you keep it as a class, I will, trust me."

You reached over to grab the papers, and stood up. "Can you just chill out? Why do you always become so severe? We haven't even talked in half a year." You chucked, a bit annoyed, but used to his dramatics. "Also, crazy person, I'm still going to take the class. It's a useful course, dunderhead." You rolled your eyes.

You began to walk away when he grabbed your arm. You hadn't expected his touch, and you tumbled backwards into the fountain.

He gasped, and immediately went to grab you, when you popped back up laughing. He stared at you, concerned for both your physical and mental state. You pushed the wet hair out of your face, and began to stand up, then thought better of it.

You winced dramatically, "Could you help me up, sir? I think I hurt my ankle." You held out your sopping wet hand, bracelets dripping.

Not waiting a moment, with a sorrowful grimace and apologies tumbling, he held your hand and began to gently pull you out when you _yanked_ him into the fountain with you. You laughed, a loud, giddy guffaw that you hadn't let out in a long time. You saw his face shift from apologetic, to scared, and for a split second, happy.

But, of course, he came up to the surface with a look so dangerous that you were genuinely afraid. "Ha, pranked ya?" you said, with much less conviction than you intended, but after seeing his reaction, you couldn't put on a taunting tone.

His hair was a curtain of black around his face and his long, heavy, woolen robes clung to his body. He sputtered in disbelief, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

No matter how much trouble you were undoubtedly in, you couldn't help but bask in the moment. You had begun talking to him again, like how you did before his birthday, and it felt wonderful. You gasped in amusement. "With me, sir? You're the one that pulled me in here! I was just returning the favor." You floated on your back, eyes closing yet again, a serene smile forming as you kicked off your shoes. "You have to admit, it does feel wonderful. A perfect afternoon, I'd say."

-

He stood up, and went down to grab your hand when he paused and looked at you. You were just so _happy_. At something as dumb and muggle as swimming in what was basically a pool, on a hot day. He battled between forcing you out, no doubt ruining your joy, and letting you continue to waste your time in the fountain. A small part of him wanted to stay in there with you, floating without a care in the world, but of course, that would be nonsensical and stupid and meaningless. Why spend spare time in a fountain, with wet clothes, with a student who was content to just feel the sun on her face? Of course he couldn't do that.

-

You could feel the water ripple as he stepped out of the fountain. He cast a few drying spells to his clothes, then silence. Suddenly, you saw your view go dark under your eyelids, his shadow casting a mask over the sun as he sat on the edge of the fountain.

"Do you hate me?" he whispered. He sounded sad. "Are you abandoning Potions because of me?"

You sat up, but stayed in the fountain. You were surprised, but at that point, you were kind of at a _'fuck it, you only live once,'_ place. You finally figured out what you wanted in life, and it didn't have anything to do with him; it actually was based on not having him in it.

You looked up to him, the sun no longer in your eyes. His hair was still wet, and it dripped onto the stone of the fountain. You gave him a small smile. "Of course I don't hate you, but I had to get over you," You, weirdly enough, didn't feel heartbroken, or disappointed. It was like a delicate, sad, peace. "And to do that, I have to leave Potions. It can't follow me into my future when I'm out of here."

"I'm sorry," he put his head in his hands, facing away from you. "God, I'm so sorry."

You turned your head, perplexed. "What are you sorry for? Everything is fine. Actually, if nothing ended up happening on your birthday, I would still be perusing a career I actually don't want." You finally climbed out of the fountain, and put your hand on his shoulder so he would look at you. "I don't regret anything that happened, okay?"

He nodded, still looking away from you. "Did I really hurt you that bad that you stopped liking Potions? A whole subject?" he whispered, tightening his eyes shut. "I can't stop hurting people, can I? I even tried so hard to be good to you, good to Dumbledore, good to Lily-"

You cut him off, more confused than ever but avoiding his last comments. "What on Earth are you talking about? I liked Potions _because_ of you!"

At that, he turned towards you completely, his expression unreadable. By then, all the other students in the courtyard had left for dinner, it being six thirty already, the summer sun staying bright.

"What?" he asked, voice slightly wavering but otherwise completely composed. "Why would you like Potions because of me?"

You simply laughed. "Are you serious?" You grabbed both his shoulders, and looked at him dead in the eyes. "You idiot, I fancied you!"

You stood up, and grabbed your shoes from where they rested at the bottom of the fountain. You did a quick drying spell to your whole body, then turned back to see Snape frozen in a daze.

"Don't tell me you didn't know!" you giggled nervously, and held out your hand for him to take. "I promise, it's you have nothing to worry about now, and I can assure you that I will never bring it up again." Sure, it was a lie, but you weren't going to tell him the crush was still active! It was enough that he knew it was much more intense in the past few years, but he needed to know.

He looked up to you, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise. "You fancied me?" He grabbed your hand and stood up, slightly wobbly.

You gave him a quick smile, then let go of his hand. "I'm sure I hid it well enough, but yes, I did," You checked your watch. "Shit, I gotta run, though. I'm pretty sure they're going to have treacle tart tonight, and I can't miss that!"

You ran off, giving a still shocked Snape a wave goodbye.

 _'That went well,'_ you thought, greeting a few friends from other houses before sitting between Ophelia and Violet at the Hufflepuff Table, _'now I have nothing to hide, and I have a plan for the future!'_

-

As you were in the cozy Great Hall, crowding your plate with the various assortments from the food on the table, Snape had slid down the side of the fountain rim to rest against it, staring at a tree in disbelief.

 _'She fancied me. She bloody_ liked _me. That idiot girl.'_ He thought. As he closed his eyes, tears pricking, he thought of a memory of the two of you from right before Christmas break.

\- 

'Wrong! Best album of all time is Sgt. Pepper's. You can try to say something else, but I will never change my mind,' Rosaline said, her tone familiarly defensively over music.

Severus rolled his eyes, but replied, 'Can we at least agree that, objectively, one of the best songs ever is Bohemian Rhapsody? If Freddie Mercury isn't a wizard, he deserves every bloody thing in the world for coming up with that.'

Rosaline began to nod, but before she could retort, she said, 'Wait, shut up, shut up. This is brilliant...'

The opening guitar riff began from Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division.

'Merlin, how can that be any more perfect?' Rosaline asked herself, her own eyes closed. 'Bloody masterpiece, that was.'

Severus just stared at Rosaline with his own little smile, then closed his eyes to enjoy listening to the rest of the song.

-

 _'Of course she would love the opening part of a fantastic song more than the actual blasted song,'_ Severus thought. He laughed, laughing and laughing until they morphed into hideous, atrocious cries. He sobbed into his robes, thinking about how even when his love was requited, it had made a mess of someone's life.

'I'm destined to be alone.'

'I screw everything up.'

'I don't deserve love, not Lily's.'

_'...especially not Rosaline's.'_

_-_


	11. drive - the cars

**September 1988**

The last few weeks of sixth year were... uncomfortable. You gave Snape small smiles, and he would return them half heartedly. It was certainly better than when you hadn't talked at all, but it was stifling. You thought that by telling Snape about your feelings, and the subsequent end of your feelings, tensions would cease and everything would go back to how things were last year. But, of course, nothing could be that simple.

Every Potions class was awkward. Extremely, unbearably, awkward. Maybe that's how the classes were for everyone else, but you were used to being treated with more casualty, with playfulness. Either way, you didn't like it.

But then, it was summer, and you figured out the logistics of how you could open your own practice. Unfortunately, witches and wizards required extra schooling outside of Hogwarts with jobs regarding healing. It would be an extra five years after graduating, plus all the time it would take to make enough money to start your own practice, so you would, roughly, begin your dream in 1995. In bloody seven years. You did have money saved up, and your parents enthusiastically supported you. Your mother, Lydia, was a surgeon, so she was immensely proud of you, and what you could do. Your dad, Robert, owned a carpentry business, so he understood the process of starting a small company, and was incredibly helpful with that aspect.

You sent off a few letters to healing universities, ones with programs specializing in magical creatures, and set up a fund for your future practice. Everything was in order, and all you had to do was get at least an E in Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, Defense, and bloody Charms. At least, that's what you needed to be a Healer, so you figured at least an E in CoMC wouldn't hurt. But Charms. That would be a problem. You failed the Charms OWL, so you had to take extra lessons during sixth year so you could retake it with the fifth years. Luckily, you did get an E that time, after spending hours and hours on it, but how could you make an E for the NEWT? You spent most of the summer studying and preparing so you could be prepared for the test when school began again, and it was torture.

Then, all too soon, it was back to Hogwarts for the last time. Surprisingly, you were made Head Girl. Apparently, although you did drive Dumbledore mad in your meetings, he thought you were fit for the role. It was slightly awkward because Bill was Head Boy, but you two had gone back to friends after breaking up. He was already dating someone new, and you honestly felt fine.

Because, quite sadly, you still fancied Snape.

You hadn't seen him since exams in sixth year, and while you hoped that in that time all of your feelings would dissolve. when you made eye contact at the Welcoming Feast from the middle of the Hufflepuff table, all of your feelings rushed in. It felt like pressing play on a cassette player and not realizing the volume would be turned up so bloody much. Your feelings were just _too much._

You gave him a small smile, wishing that at the very least, he was back to normal, but all he did was give you a bored stare and turned to continue conversation with the new Defense teacher.

Shifting your gaze, you looked at the new teacher with little interest. Of course, it had to be another old, boring man with unkempt hair and clothes. Why couldn't the new teacher ever be hot, or young? Or at least a woman, for Merlin's sake. No, for Morgana's sake.

The rest of the night, you tried to put the whole encounter out of your head, and focused on your schedule for the week. You had Potions first thing in the morning the next day, which would hopefully be fine. He had better not act weird.

-next morning-

It was too early to work with chemicals. But, deciding to treat his class like old times, you walked into his classroom with a large grin, and strolled to his desk to tell him about your plans to open your own veterinary practice (after completing the necessary schooling, of course), when he gave you a cold stare.

"Go to your desk, Miss Knight. This isn't chat time, this is class," he said, watching you with an icy glare as you shuffled to an open table.

One of your Slytherin friends, Claudia, leaned in to whisper to you, "What's his problem? I thought you were mates?"

You shrugged dejectedly. "I have no idea. Maybe he's just on edge because it's our final year."

Throughout the whole class, he treated you like one of his Gryffindors- like you were the scum of the Earth stuck to the bottom of his shoe. It was worse than any of his other treatments. Worse than when he ignored you. Worse than when he treated you like a Slytherin. It was horrible.

He paid no attention your pointed looks, your raised hands, and only talked to you when you made the slightest of mistakes.

"Really, Knight? That vapor is clearly magenta, not salmon."

"Using the wrong knife, again? Ten points from Hufflepuff."

"Obviously, Miss Knight, you must stir another time if the potion is not yet glittering."

Having enough of his behavior, you retaliated. "What the hell is your problem?" you finally yelled. The whole class paused and looked between you and Snape. They were used to the two of you being friendly with each other, and any comments were taken lightly, but that day was different. Everyone knew you didn't usually act very Hufflepuff-y, so that wasn't a surprise, but you were Head Girl now.

"My problem? This is a NEWT class, Miss Knight, and you will treat it as such. Twenty points from Hufflepuff, and if you disrespect me again, it will be much, much worse. Now, why don't you worry about fixing your horrendous potion, as well as your attitude before asking me what my problem is?" He turned around as your jaw slightly dropped in shock. He was being an utter tosser! Even more than how he treated Gryffindors. Your potion was one of the best in the class, if not _the_ best.

You stood up and left the class without a backwards glance.

You could hear the gasps and the murmurs of the students, but you didn't care. You made your way to the Room of Requirement to calm down when you suddenly felt cool air brush against your arm.

"What do you want, Peeves?" you asked, turning to the smiling spirit. He had mischief in his eyes (which was actually pretty creepy), and was spinning in circles.

"Rosie's out of class! Hufflepuff on the loose! Professors, there's a student out of class!" he shouted, rapidly floating throughout the corridor.

You cursed, then quickly walked back and forth three times in front of the Room of Requirement to avoid getting caught by Filch, or any other professors or prefects.

 _'I need a room to calm down in,'_ you thought as you crossed back and forth three times.

Out of nowhere, a door appeared where the wall was once smooth and blank. You quickly turned the handle and shut the door as you heard footsteps make their way to the seventh floor.

You were sure Snape was completely pissed, but he was being completely rude. You looked around the room and laughed humorlessly. Really?

It was a perfect replica of Snape's office, with a teapot exuding steam on his desk, complete with biscuits you recognized from the kitchens.

You took a few deep breaths, then sat in your- no, not your chair. You sat in the chair facing where Snape would sit, and began to pour yourself a cuppa when a cassette player appeared to your left. You sighed, looked up to the ceiling, and put on the headphones and pressed play.

Don't Worry Baby by The Beach Boys began, and you closed your eyes in frustration. Goddammit. It couldn't have been Fleetwood Mac, huh?

 _'I am worrying, damn it. How can I not worry when the guy I confessed to hates me, and wants nothing to do with me?'_ You thought, tears threatening to leak from your tightly closed eyes.

A part of you wanted to believe that he really did fancy you, too. How could there be any other explanation of him always looking out for you, carving out time to talk to you and hang out with you?

A few times, you would find him looking at you with a faraway kind of gaze. If you decided to 'catch' him, he would quickly glance to his feet, or his hands, and act like he wasn't doing anything.

If you were about to make a mistake in class, he would quickly whisper the right thing to you, in a way that only you could hear, and then give you a little smile.

You let out a shaky sigh. Wasn't that what one did when fancying someone? Or at the very least, didn't that prove that he held some kind of consideration for you? What was his problem, that wanker? If anything, you should be acting cold to him because you had spilled your great, big secret.

After an hour, when you knew Potions would be over, you decided to leave the room. Begrudgingly, you admitted to yourself that being in his office did help you calm down, despite him _being the source of needing to calm down_. All of the songs on the tape were horribly slow and sad, and when Let It Be began, you had to turn it off. The room clearly didn't know you, and that goddamn Elton John would calm you down more than bloody depressing Beatles.

You scrunched up your face in anticipation of what could be outside the door when you opened it. You turned the handle, then opened it a crack, taking a quick look.

And there was no one. Satisfied, you opened the door all the way, then walked out with a smirk. But, of fucking course, when you closed the door and begun walking to the stairs, you heard the murmur of a spell.

" _Revelio_ ," Snape cast, his frame appearing in front of you, a glare so deadly you were surprised to stand.

You acted like you didn't see him, and kept walking to the stairs. He was taking the piss if he thought you would waste your time, your precious time, talking to him!

"Knight, stop. Merlin, slow down!" he said, striding after you, because of course he wouldn't run, he fucking glides.

"What. Do. You. Want?" you seethed.

"We need to talk. You dropped a fucking bomb on me at the end of sixth year, and we need to talk about it," he replied, not really angry, just stern.

You rolled your eyes, but felt surprised at his blatant curse. "I shouldn't have even told you. It's gone, alright?" You began walking again, when he reached his arm out in front of you to prevent you from moving.

"C'mon. Just really quick, I need to talk to you, Rosaline." He guided you back to the Room of Requirement, which was somehow still there. Oh, no.

"Wait, uh, maybe we better go to your office. No! Not your office. What? Why... oh shit," you babbled as he kept walking, and pulled open the door, and it was still the replica of his office.

He looked at you, eyes softened. "Was it like this when you were in there?"

"Yes," you whispered, face reddening.

Without another word and just a deep breath, he closed it and walked back and forth three times. He opened the new door, where the room changed to be a big library, with many cushy chairs and cups of tea on the little tables.

You both walked in, taking seats across from each other.

He was staring at you with that damn look you didn't understand. "Why was it my office?"

"I asked for a place to calm down in. I didn't ask for it, specifically," you replied, tracing the wood of the table.

"Oh."

A few moments of him looking at you later, you spoke again. "Can you just tell me why you're so cross with me?"

He sighed, seemingly exasperated. "I'm not cross with you, I just need to treat you like I should've treated you since first year. This will sound awful, but it's true- I never should have put you in a position where you could develop feelings for me," he said. He had adopted a professional tone, and sat up straighter.

"But it's not your fault, it's mine! I'm seventeen anyway, so why would it matter?" you remarked, taking a sip of tea. "Besides, it's over. I just want you to be nice again."

"You're still my student, I'm eleven years your senior, and if you haven't noticed, I'm not a nice person," Snape admonished, furrowing his brows.

"Number one: you are nice, to me, most of the time, when you aren't being a wanker. Number two: I don't fancy you anymore. Number three: you don't fancy me, so it's not like anything would happen anyway! Just get over it, and be my stupid, bloody git of a friend again!" you exclaimed, about to stand up and storm out when he spoke again.

"If you want me to be nice to you, you have to treat me with respect," he said, giving you a knowing look. "I don't care if we converse as equals outside of class, but in class, I'm your elder. I'm your professor."

You nodded adamantly. "I can do that, but you need to chill out. If I'm making a mistake, call me out, but don't pick on me."

Several moments passed before Snape replied, with a sarcastic tone. He rolled his eyes. "Sure, fine. Now, go to class, and leave me alone."

You stood up, pleased that you could resolve the problem. With a last look over your shoulder, you saw Snape, head in his hands, slouched in his chair. You frowned, and against better judgement, called out, "You alright?"

He looked at you again with a slightly pained expression. "Yes. Rosaline, I just need a minute alone."

You turned and left, but your confusion continued to occupy your thoughts. It was certainly good that you were seemingly on good terms again, and it hadn't taken a lot to convince him. Maybe he really was just lonely, and something about your friendship scared him. You were friends with other teachers, like Sprout and Kettleburn. You were on great terms with Dumbledore, and the Gamekeeper, Hagrid. Even Trelawney, as batty as she was, was someone you were comfortable around, and liked her presence, well, generally.

Besides, it wasn't like Professor Snape was the only teacher you met outside of class. You frequently assisted Sprout and the CoMC Professor, Kettleburn, after dinner and in free periods to help them with their plants and creatures, respectively. You had tea with Hagrid at least twice a month, and met Dumbledore frequently. Trelawney loved to predict your future, and you had fun reading each other's tarot cards the first of each month. And, even though you were dreadful with Charms, Flitwick liked you and every time you had tutoring, he didn't treat you like you were incompetent.

So, what if you fancied Snape? He didn't fancy you, and even if he did, you were an adult by wizard law.

It was just extremely embarrassing that the Room of Requirement turned into his office. You groaned as the chill of September air hit you with a cool blast. He probably knew that you still liked him, now that the damn Room exposed you.

Shaking your head, you ran to catch up with the other Hufflepuffs that were taking Care of Magical Creatures. That was a blow to your ego, but it was worth it for being friends with him again, and it actually seemed like it would last.

Later that day, the next time you saw him was at dinner. By then, everyone in your class knew how you cursed at him and ran out, so they were gossiping and awaiting his response. Unfortunately for them, however, when you made eye contact with him at the front of the room, your assured grin was met with a roll of his eyes and a sarcastic, exasperated wave. Everyone who watched the encounter turned around and grumbled about how you always got away with smarting off the professors.

Satisfied, you continued to chat with the other Hufflepuffs, and Snape resumed his conversation with McGonagall. Everything was back to a comfortable normal.

Except, when you weren't looking, Snape watched you with longing.

When he wasn't looking, you gazed over your shoulder to discreetly take in his appearance.

Everything was normal.


	12. dancing queen - abba

**October 23, 1988**

"Happy birthday, Rose!" the girls in your dorm screamed.

Annoyed, you pulled your curtains open. "Why?" you asked groggily. Slowly comprehending, your scowl shifted into a wide grin and you quickly sat up. "Oh my Godric! It's my birthday!"

They all jumped on your bed as the record player loudly played Madonna. You squealed as Diana pulled you up to dance with them. You all jumped on the bed for a few minutes as Madonna sang about being a Material Girl.

Laughing breathlessly, you all sank to the bed, pulling up the various presents from the foot of your bed. Eagerly, you opened the card from your parents first. A glittery number 18 was printed on the front of the card. Despite 17 being the age of adulthood in the Wizarding World, your parents still regarded 18 as the age of officially being an adult. They had given you a joke gift of a bottle of whiskey (they were incredibly cool, you decided) and a few records.

After each of you took a shot, you proceeded to open the other gifts. Despite Hufflepuffs being regarded as the 'weak' house, you all could hold your alcohol. Being next to the kitchen sure had its perks. From Violet, a poster of Debbie Harry that made you blush. They all giggled at your reaction, knowing you fancied her. You opened the other gifts, which were various beauty products and stationary, and gave all your friends a hug.

You picked out a comfortable, but fashionable outfit for the day, since it was a Hogsmeade weekend. You put on a large yellow jumper and your favorite blue flare jeans, and some trainers. For finishing touches, you put on big bauble earrings and the top half of your thick black hair in a scrunchie.

"Can we please go get breakfast now? I need some chocolate chip pancakes, stat," you begged. They followed behind you, and when you reached the common room, there was a big shout of, "Happy birthday, Rosaline!"

You gasped, shocked. Dozens of Hufflepuffs had gathered around in the common room and a large banner stretched across the ceiling. You couldn't believe that so many people put in the effort to wish you a happy birthday. You thought that Hufflepuffs merely tolerated you, but all of the ones that showed up had big smiles. It probably had something to do with your Head Girl status, but it was incredibly kind, nevertheless.

"Happy birthday, Rose," Tonks exclaimed, pulling you in for a tight hug. With a hushed tone, they added, "Sprout's here too, so don't get too close or she'll smell the booze."

You laughed and returned their hug. "It's legal, though, innit?"

Tonks pulled back with a grin, "Just warning you, birthday girl." Tonks greeted your friends, their usually pink hair shifting to a bright Hufflepuff yellow.

You made the rounds around the room thanking people, some of which you didn't even know, but swore to yourself that you would get to know them. The house had decided to give you a rare plant as a joint gift, which you accepted with many thanks. After an hour or so, you walked to the Great Hall with your dorm mates. Discussing the mini party animatedly, they told you that it was just supposed to be a little surprise.

You thanked them, and when you stepped into the Great Hall, you were immediately bombarded with hugs from your friends in other houses. Claudia, Tammy, and William from Slytherin, Tara and Rebecca from Ravenclaw, and even Thomas from Gryffindor all came up to you with birthday wishes. After a few minutes of discussion, you and the other girls made your way to the Hufflepuff table. Eyes brightening, you saw that there was indeed chocolate chip pancakes.

"So, 18, huh?" Ophelia asked, taking a large orange from the basket on the table.

"That's right, so you all better not cross me, I have age authority over all of you," you replied jokingly, then proceeding to stuff your face with food as they talked about you, the trip to Hogsmeade after breakfast, and the upcoming Halloween Feast.

Your birthday was on October 23, so Halloween was always something you could looked forward to after your birthday. Sneaking a quick peek at the professors at the front of the Hall, You saw Dumbledore raising his goblet to you. You quickly did the same with a sheepish smile, surprised that he remembered it was your birthday. Looking to his left, Snape gave you a quick grin and mouthed, 'Happy birthday.'

You beamed, mouthing back your thanks. Continuing to observe the table, Trelawney was urging you up to the table when she saw you looking her way. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you put down your utensils.

"Be right back, guys," you called out, walking up to the High Table.

"Hello, Professor," you greeted Trelawney. She looked as whack as ever, but you couldn't help liking her.

"Is it true, my dear? Your date of birth is today? I saw, of course, today would be an important date for you, but tell me, child," she asked in her dreamy, yet urgent voice.

"Yes, it is indeed true," you replied gravely, making Snape snort. He was observing your conversation with interest. You shot him a brief smile.

"You are a Scorpio, correct? I knew this, from our interactions, but you are on the cusp of Libra, which is most curious. Tell me, have you had much interaction with Capricorns?" she questioned, grasping your hands in hers.

"You know what, I was just taking to Professor Snape yesterday," you exclaimed, feigning shock. His eyes widened at you forcing him in the conversation. Trelawney turned her gaze to Snape, gasping as if realizing something, "and he's a Capricorn, aren't you, sir?"

He slumped his shoulders in disdain. "Yes, Rosaline, I am."

Trelawney let go of one of your hands to grasp Snape's twitching one. "Curious, indeed! I see the two of your futures mingling, certainly. You must tell me, child, were you born at 3 in the morning?"

You tried to hide your snickers over a pretend coughing fit. When you looked back up to her and Snape, his amused smirk had slightly fallen. "I'm sorry, but I think I was born in the evening," you said with false regret.

She sighed, letting go of both of your hands, and stood up. "Very well. Do make sure to bring an umbrella to Hogsmeade, dear."

At that, she left with a hurry. You raised your eyebrow at Snape. "It's sunny."

His face brightened again. "No, no, my dear," he mocked, pulling your hands into his. "It will rain, just as I predicted. Do bring your umbrella, and a windbreaker."

You laughed heartily, and he let go of your hands, chuckling as well. You tried to ignore the tingling in your hands from him touching you. "So, happy birthday," he said.

You smiled. "Thanks! Are you going to Hogsmeade? She did get that right, at least." You folded your arms on the table and put your head down and looked up at him.

"I unfortunately have chaperone duty today, so yes," he said, taking a large gulp of his drink. "Now, get lost before your friends combust where they stand." He pointed to the front of the Hall, where your friends were waiting for you with anticipation.

You groaned, then gave him a wave as you turned to jog back to them. But, before you could, Dumbledore called out, "Miss Knight!"

You looked back, and walked in front of him. "Yes, sir?"

He smiled warmly, his bright blue eyes full of amusement. "Happy birthday," his voice dropped to an amused whisper, "Please remember that while you may legally consume alcohol, it must be done so off of school premises."

You bit your lip as a warm blush erupted across your cheeks. Snape had to turn the other way to avoid laughing. "Of course. I would never!" You winked, and ran to your friends, leaving Dumbledore chuckling.

As you walked with your girlfriends to the line of students going to Hogsmeade, you thanked the gods that you and Snape were finally back to normal. It wasn't even like he was your teacher, really, just a mate. But it never became inappropriate. You continued to hide your feelings, and in actual class, you treated him like any other professor. Outside of class, though, you two had begun hanging out again. Only once or twice a week, since you had a lot of homework, but it was great. You smiled as you remembered telling him about your plan to open a Wizarding veterinary hospital.

-

_Snape looked up from his desk, waving his wand to turn down the Prince record. You shifted your gaze from your Defense essay to meet his eyes. It was a few weeks ago, around the beginning of October. You had begun spending time together in his office rather than his classroom, maybe because you had said that's where you could calm down, or maybe not, he never told you._

_"So, what are you doing instead of Potions?" he asked, tilting his head._

_"Oh, shit! I forgot I didn't tell you!" you exclaimed, reaching down into your bag to pull out the notebook you kept with your plans. He rolled his eyes at your curse, but reached for the notebook when you held it out. "I want to study to become a Healer, but specialize in creature and animal care. Dumbledore said he could even schedule a quick meeting with Newt Scamander over the Floo for me!"_

_"I'm impressed. This seems like a great idea, but you do know that it takes a long time to become a Healer, right? Can you stay focused on something for that long?" he teased, skimming through the notebook._

_You scoffed. "Of course I can. When I become focused on something, it doesn't just go away." You fought the blush that creeped its way up your neck. You hoped he wouldn't make the connection to your crush on him._

_He looked up briefly, but didn't comment on it. "You can certainly do this. I have complete faith in you," he praised, continuing to go through the book. "You'll have to keep me updated, post Hogwarts."_

_You gasped in a joking surprise. "You'll let me send post after I graduate? Aw, Snape! I find that to be quite kind!" you retorted, alluding to the fact that Hufflepuffs were great finders._

_He chuckled. "Never mind, I take it back."_

_He passed you back the notebook, and gave you a genuine smile. "After you leave, I imagine the student population will be quite dull. How dreadful it would be to lose your company entirely after school ends."_

_You bit your lip to stop your grin to refrain from resembling the Cheshire Cat. "Yeah. Same here," you responded, remarkably uneloquently, "I'll keep you posted." You grabbed the notebook back, and returned your eyes to the shoddy essay. Damn it, you could feel his eyes on you again, and you knew it was that weird look he sometimes made. After a few moments, though, he turned up the volume and Raspberry Beret continued to play, and you both resumed your scrawling._

-

You and the girls continued your trek to the village, making stops in Zonkos, Honeydukes, and a stationary shop. You urged the other girls to go ahead to The Three Broomsticks while you finished looking at the new quill selection.

Fully engrossed in the scented parchment, you failed to see that the bright October sun had shifted to dark, grey clouds. Concluding your purchase, you walked outside to be greeted with heavy shadows. You quickened your pace to The Three Broomsticks, but the heavy downpour beat you to it. Too far to retreat back to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, but also not close enough to The Three Broomsticks, you rushed into the nearest building, which was The Hog's Head.

You quickly ran to the doors, swung them open, then closed them. The bar was almost completely empty, except for a few older witches at the counter, and miscellaneous patrons in the tables. You made your way to your favorite booth by a window under the watchful eye of the barman. When you sat down, he came up to the table.

"Knight, please tell me you know some spell to dry yourself off," Aberforth asked, looking at your wet clothes with disdain. You had been to the bar many times, and actually preferred it to the other restaurants in Hogsmeade. Since it appeared to be a grimy, dirty place (okay, it was), most students avoided it, favoring Madame Puddifoot's or The Three Broomsticks. When you came alone to the village, though, you always stopped at The Hog's Head for a cold butterbeer. Your friends hated it, but the warm, surprisingly comfortable bar was your favorite location at Hogsmeade.

Aberforth had been annoyed with your presence the first few times you came, assuming you to be a silly teenage girl, but after you made yourself known as a returning patron, he had warmed up to you, and you were friendly with each other.

"If you give me more than five seconds to make myself comfortable, I will," you grumbled back, casting a few spells to dry off yourself, the booth, and your bags. "Now, may I please have a butterbeer?"

He nodded, and went to the bar to get you one. As you waited, you looked around to see if there was anyone you knew, but there wasn't. Or, wait, it that-

"Snape!" you called, waving frantically as if he would miss you. From a table on the other side of the bar, his head perked up at your voice. With a dramatic sigh, he pulled himself up and walked over to you.

He sat down across from you. "Did you see me wave?" you joked, grinning at him from across the table. Some wizard group from the 50s played softly in the background.

He rolled his eyes. "No. I didn't see you wave your arms like you were at the disco, and I definitely didn't hear you scream like a banshee."

You opened your mouth to retort, but Aberforth had returned with your drink before you could. "Here, Rose. Two Sickles."

You had begun reached down for your pouch of coins when Snape had pressed the currency in Aberforth's hand. "I got it. It's your birthday, and all."

Aberforth looked from Snape to you. "It's your birthday? Don't worry about it then." He put the Sickles on the table and walked away before you could force him to take it. You called out your thank you, getting a wave in return.

"That was nice of you. Thanks, anyway," you said to Snape, grabbing the butterbeer and putting it under your sweater hem to screw off the bottle cap.

He shrugged. "I didn't know you were on such good terms with Aberforth. He's not exactly a friendly person," Snape said, taking a drink from his own butterbeer.

You played with the cap as you replied, "I kept bugging him, and I think I just wore him down over time."

For a few minutes, you both just took sips and looked out at the pounding rain. Seemed like Trelawney was right after all.

"So, it seems like Sybil got something else right," Snape said, looking back at you. Okay, did he just read your mind, or were you that in sync?

"I wonder whether she really predicted it, or just read up on weather reports?" you wondered.

Snape reached down to the bag at his feet, and put it on the table. "Don't get too excited now. I was going to give you this after Hogsmeade, but we're stuck here anyway, so why not. Happy birthday. Again."

He pushed the bag towards you. It wasn't in a gift bag, but in a seemingly reused Borgin and Burke's bag.

You raised your eyebrows in anticipation. "Ooh, is it something illegal?" you asked, pulling the bag in front of you. Your heart pounded at the fact that he gave you a gift, which he hadn't before. He rolled your eyes at your remark.

Reaching at the first item, you immediately blushed and put your head in your hands. It was a poster of David Bowie, but it was charmed so he winked.

"Thank you," you stammered, making Snape bloody cackle. Dear Godric, you hadn't heard that laugh before. You decided then that his laugh was the best gift you could've gotten. His loud, free guffaw filled the whole bar, and it felt like warm honey had dripped into your heart, and you had to resist the urge to completely melt in affection. Best part, he didn't seem to realize that it was so out of his character, and didn't stop on account of the stares from the few other patrons.

Your blush remained, but the simple act of watching him laugh made you join him. After he calmed down, he looked back at you with twinkling eyes that greatly challenged those of Dumbledore.

"You're lucky it wasn't a poster of Winona Ryder. You would've collapsed," he grinned. You bit your lip in embarrassment at his accurate statement.

"Not even! Why do all of my friends want to make me blush at these heartthrobs?" you mumbled, then hurried to reach in the bag for the next item to get over your sheepishness of the moment. You gaped in surprise, pulling out a pouch containing one seed.

"Is this a Moly plant seed?" you asked, gingerly taking it out of its pouch and observing it. Moly plants were very rare and thus, quite expensive.

"Yes, but don't worry, I found a couple flowers in the wild, so I didn't buy it," he replied, watching your reaction. You were happy that he said he didn't buy it, because you would have forced him to take it back so he didn't spend so much money on you.

You gently dropped it into the pouch and looked back up at him with excitement. "I can't believe it. You're incredible."

He blushed slightly, in his awkward, splotchy way, then composed himself. "Take out the next thing, and promise you won't freak out."

You exhaled in exasperation. "You're being much too kind. I hope you don't expect this much for your birthday, because I-"

You stopped talking and just closed your mouth in surprise. You gazed up at him, your excitement shifting to disbelief.

"Is this really Felix Felicis?" you murmured, holding up the vial to the dim light.

"Yes," he said, observing your face. "Do you like it?"

You hid all your feelings of adoration (because if you weren't sure if you really did like him or not before, you certainly knew now), to the back of your mind, and just let your true excitement out. You squealed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! This better be extra stock, but thank you!" You placed it on the table carefully, making sure it wouldn't roll, and jumped up to the other side of the booth, and hugged him. Not expecting that reaction, he froze, and before he could reach his arms up and hug you back, you had already let go.

"Sorry for hugging you, but oh my Godric! This is incredible! Best birthday ever! I thought the whiskey was the best present, but you blew it out of the water, really. Thank you so much." You scurried back to your seat, and put everything back in the bag. He had dropped his eyes back to the scratches table, fighting his own large grin of satisfaction.

"Whiskey? Rose..." he said in a warning tone, but suddenly, the rain let up and the sun began to shine through the clouds. There was still a light rainfall, but it was bearable enough to walk back to school in.

You raised your eyebrow in surprise. "Ready to head back?" you asked, slightly disappointed. You certainly didn't want to, as the whole encounter felt a bit like a date, and you didn't want to end that, but it was already past time to return to the castle.

He stood up, holding out his hand for you like a gentleman. "We better, or they'll have you in detention, and I will get a stern talking to."

You giggled, and the two of you began to walk back to the castle after yelling your goodbyes to Aberforth.

After casting a spell that conjured a sheet above the two of you so you wouldn't get wet, he spoke up. "Do you have any good birthday stories?" 

You hummed as you thought. Looking around the now sunny path back to the school, you began talking. 

"My fifth birthday, my parents told me the story of my name. I'm not sure how familiar you are with muggle culture, but Rosaline was a character in Shakespeare's play, 'Romeo and Juliet'. Being the hippies that they were, my parents wanted me to have a name with meaning, but of course, it had to be somewhat bitter, didn't it?" You laughed at yourself somewhat self deprecatingly. "They said that the best part of 'Romeo and Juliet' was when Rosaline dumped Romeo's arse." 

A choked laugh escaped Snape. 

"Hold on, that isn't the best part! So, they say that Rosaline didn't die, but she was this catalyst for a life changing event, despite not having any lines or appearances in the play. Sounds alright, a bit morbid, but alright," you continued to explain, "and I was happy with that explanation. So happy, in fact, that when my parents gave me an illustrated copy of 'Romeo and Juliet,' I lit the book on fire. And that was the first time I used magic." 

Snape laughed his big laugh, and a smile grew across your face. 

"You're wonderful. My parents named me Severus after the Roman emperor, Septimius Severus. Why, I don't know. I've never liked it," he said with a sour expression. "It's made for some pretty creative insults."

You furrowed your brows. "That blows. I like your name. It has always sounded pretty cool to me," you shrugged.

He closed his eyes for a moment longer than a blink, and looked at you with unease. "You think?"

"Why else would I have used it in my puns so much?" you asked. "I never meant it as a jab, by the way. I was just trying to make you laugh," you revealed. "I was also confused as to why you would introduce yourself to your students with your first name."

He laughed. "Hey, it was my second year teaching! I didn't know the proper etiquette," he said. "Merlin, you would say it so much first year," he paused, then continued hesitantly, "I knew someone when I was in school, and you would lose your shit over his name."

You waited for him to say it, but when you cast your gaze to him, his lips were in a tight line, and he was looking at the ground intently. You gave him a hesitant rub on the shoulder. He quickly looked at you, and your concerned expression, and let out a sigh of reluctance.

"His name was Sirius."

You couldn't help but bark out a laugh at that. "No bloody way. Oh, god, his parents must have hated him! Was his brother's name Lee?" You rolled your eyes. Wizards were fucking weird. Your name was slightly different, but it wasn't a blasted constellation, or star, or whatever the hell Sirius is.

He didn't respond, just gave a slight chuckle that seemed insincere. Maybe Sirius was one of the kids that made fun of his name. Snape could be very secretive, and you knew when to push him and when to let things go. This was a Let Things Go day.

The rest of the walk, only taking a few minutes, was completed in silence. With him, though, silence was comfortable. Silence was welcome, actually, as long as you could sometimes brush his arm against yours, and get the occasional smell of his evergreen soap as the wind breezed.

When you made it to the front door, he said, "I hope you have a very happy rest of your birthday. You deserve it, alright?"

He passed you all your bags, gave a wave and descended to the dungeons, cloak billowing. You shrugged at his bizarre abrupt departure, checked in with Filch to prove that you were accounted for, and went about your day, unable to think about more than Snape, and how you wished you could call him Severus.


	13. ruby tuesday - the rolling stones

**October 31, 1988**

Halloween at Hogwarts was always memorable, in that, at the very least, one could eat some great food in a great atmosphere.

Some professors altered their lessons to fit the theme of the day, but most classes at Hogwarts fit the muggle idea of Halloween already. The Halloween feast was unlike any other; some thought it even beat the Welcoming and End of Term Feast.

Of course, what made Halloween most memorable was that it was the day You-Know-Who was killed by Harry Potter.

Being brought up as a muggle, you had no idea who Harry Potter and You-Know-Who were (you didn't really have a problem saying Voldemort, but the stigma around his name made it so you didn't want to make others uncomfortable), but you did know that it was a big deal. His parents died before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tried to kill Harry, but somehow, Harry survived, and He did not.

That's pretty much all you knew about the significance of Halloween in the Wizarding World (thanks, Professor Bins, for talking exclusively about history from centuries ago that's irrelevant! Not.), so you mainly focused on the fun aspects of the day.

On Halloween day in your seventh year, you had a light class schedule, which you thanked the gods for, because you and the girls were planning a ritual for the night.

"Wait, what? I'm not messing with devils and shit," you said, backing away from the plethora of candles and scrolls Helena and Ophelia held.

Violet sighed from the vanity. "Rose, we love and appreciate your muggle upbringing, so we will forgive you." She put down her black lipstick with a frown. "But muggles have completely altered the true meaning of Halloween. Candy and costumes are great and all, but today is much more than that."

You were baffled by her choice in lipstick shade, but the other girls wore similar makeup, so you figured it was just a wizard thing. They hadn't done it up that much in the past, though. Violet and Ophelia were pure bloods, while Helena and Diana were half bloods. They were surprised to be placed in Hufflepuff because of their status, but following the fall of You-Know-Who, most pure bloods who disagreed with his sentiments were just happy to be alive.

You continued to look confused at her statement regarding Halloween, and turned to Diana for an explanation.

She sighed, but slung an arm around your shoulder as she talked, "The true meaning of Halloween is to pay respects to our ancestors, and gratefully accept any information they wish to pass to us from the afterlife. It has nothing to do with the Dark Arts, or the 'devil.'"

"Right! It's totally respectful, and fun," Ophelia said, pulling out an old, dark green textbook. "See? We can just do this simple ritual, and it won't hurt anyone. For... reasons, we had to wait to all turn of age, and we have to have five people, so there's no reason why you _shouldn't_ join us."

You observed the page she was pointing to, and while it didn't look all that bad, you were still wary. You grew up in a world where séances and rituals were associated with Satan and cults, so it wasn't exactly reassuring to participate.

You sighed, knowing you would give in. "I think I'll ask Professor Trelawney first," you said, pulling on your Hufflepuff robe. "I'm sure it's fine, but I trust her opinion." You pinned your Head Girl badge, and forced your hair into a ponytail, teasing the end but making sure your curls were still intact. 

"She'll probably ask to join," Helena snickered, causing you and the other girls to voice your agreements. Trelawney definitely would ask to join.

Giving a final wave goodbye, you left the house and followed the crowd going up to breakfast. Catching up with some of your other friends, and wishing them a happy Halloween, as well as stopping a couple pranksters with a badly disguised grin, you finally made it to the Great Hall. If you didn't have the responsibility of Head Girl, you would definitely be pranking others, but sadly, you had a responsibility to uphold. _Ugh_.

Reaching over for a banana and a chocolate chip muffin across the table, you walked up to the High Table to talk to Trelawney. You didn't take her actual class any more, due to not having the time with the rest of your course load, but continued to see her when you could.

"Hullo, ma'am," you greeted. She wore orange and black robes, with a shawl made of sparkly purple netting. You wouldn't wear it, but internally congratulated her on her confidence in fashion.

She blinked as if seeing you for the first time. "Rosaline, my dear, how interesting to greet you on today of all days," she leaned over to grasp your hands in hers. "You do know the significance of today, don't you?"

You gently plucked her hands off of yours. "Yes, Halloween, very significant, oh joy. Can I sit up here for a minute? I would like to discuss something with you, and it would make more sense to be closer."

You gestured to the empty seat next to hers. She, Flitwick, and Dumbledore were the only ones on breakfast duty, it seemed.

She nodded fervently. You had sat up there before, usually with her, sometimes with Snape or Dumbledore. Even if you didn't have the status of Head Girl, you would probably still feel comfortable enough to sit at the High Table like it was perfectly normal, but it did make it better that you were technically allowed.

"So, a couple of my girlfriends and I are planning on doing some kind of Hallowe'en ritual, but I'm a bit unsure about it," you explained, giving a rough description of the procedure. A few times, she gasped, but you continued to speak. She would gasp at a stew recipe, the dramatic codger.

"So, what do you think?" you asked, taking a few bites of your banana.

"It's an excellent idea, and I would be honored to join if you are in need of a seer," she said, blinking profusely behind her big goggle-like glasses.

You slightly winced. Helena was right, yet again. "Oh, I apologize, Professor, but we already have five." You stood up and tried to make your leave seem less hasty than it really was. "Thanks for your help, though! I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow."

Not waiting for a reply, you turned around quickly to begin your descent when you knocked into someone.

"Watch where you're going, Knight," Snape said. He said it menacingly, but he said everything like it was dripped in acid. He did seem a bit on edge, however.

Decidedly ignoring this, you rolled your eyes with a smile and stood back to pull out a chair for him. "Of course, sir, how dareth I! Please, rest, and feast upon the finest cuisine."

As he sat down with exaggerated exasperation, you took a seat on his other side. "So, what are we doing today in class?"

He sneered. "We will be studying the ever-revolting Amortentia." He stabbed at the porridge in front of him like it was personally offensive.

You grimaced. "Love potion? How dreadful." You took a few bites of your muffin, and swallowed. You stuck out your tongue in distaste at the idea of Amortentia.

He inspected you, slightly confused at your reaction. "I thought you would be excited. Don't all teenage girls swoon over the idea of love?"

You rolled your eyes again. "Great, sexism this early in the morning! How fun. I'm all for love, but a manufactured drug that renders its drinker in an obsessive state? That's totally a bummer, and hella gross."

"Well said!" Dumbledore piped in from your other side. You hadn't realized he was listening, and blushed at the fact that he heard you say 'hella'. "Good thing it's banned from the school except for learning purposes, aye?"

You hesitantly nodded. "Yes, but I don't understand how it isn't illegal. I mean, I'm excited to smell what my 'true love' is, but it's essentially Rophynl mixed with the Imperius, isn't it?"

Both men looked unsure of what you said.

You clarified with more assurance. "Roofies. The date-rape drug. And, obviously, one of the Unforgivable curses. Wouldn't you be worried someone would try to steal some, and use it for their own... purposes?"

Their eyes widened at your blatancy, but after a few seconds of hesitant silence, Dumbledore spoke up. "You are too wise, Miss Knight. Many become infatuated with the idea of infatuation that they cease to recognize the danger of Amortentia, but it is incredibly harmful."

You turned to Snape for his response. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, but nodded slightly. "That's what I was going to say today, anyhow. The students aren't going to actually brew the potion, just learn its properties, and like you stated, the dangers, by observing a small vat of it. "

You grinned. "Fantastic! I would hate for anyone to get the wrong idea. Love the irony, by the way, of learning about a love potion on what many consider to be a grim day."

Finishing your food, you said your goodbyes to the teachers and made your way to Herbology early, anticipating greeting Hagrid and viewing his famous pumpkins.

-

"She really is unlike other witches her age, Severus," Dumbledore said, giving Snape a knowing glance.

Quickly averting his gaze from your retreating person, Snape scoffed. "Are you going senile, Albus? Do you even know what today is?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely, and took a deep drink from his goblet. "Of course I do. We both know, however, that all Lily would have wished for you would be to find someone you could be happy with."

Snape turned to the older man with a look of contempt. "Are you really suggesting that I pursue a relationship with a student?"

"I am not suggesting a thing. I'm merely pointing out the fact that Lily would have wanted you to have all the happiness you could, and that you and Miss Knight are quite compatible, and you both love each other. And, she is of age."

At that, Snape bristled and became even more tense. "I'm not going to indulge you, Albus. I'm here for one reason, and it's for _her_. I wouldn't jeopardize everything over a silly girl, who, no, does not love me."

 _'Not anymore,'_ He thought miserably.

His playful eyes twinkled at Snape. "Very well. You know I am deeply appreciative of everything you have done for the Order and the future of the Wizarding World..."

Albus continued to speak, but Snape tuned him out and ate the rest of his breakfast in silence, silently cursing the old man.

-

You, however, were happily discussing the pumpkin yield with Hagrid.

"These look fantastic, Hagrid! You really have quite the green thumb, you know. Are they usually this large this time of year?" you asked, knocking a particularly big one, and dusting off the dirt from between the grooves.

He beamed at your praise. "Thanks, Rose! Yeh're too kind. I asked Professor Sprout fer some extra fertilizer, and it must've worked! Can yeh thank her again fer me in yer class?" He hacked off one of the vines that was trying to wrap around your ankle, and flung it off into the distance.

You smiled, and looked down at your watch. "Oh, bollocks. I have to run, but I'll see you later, alright?"

You sprinted off towards the Lower Floor, and quickly took your place behind a rather nasty looking plant you hadn't seen before. After pointedly ignoring Sprout's look of disdain at your tardiness, class began.

Throughout the day, the reactions of students to Halloween varied, and you thought you saw every possible attitude. There were those who pulled pranks, those who treated the day with reverence and solemness, and those who didn't seem to think the day was like any other.

After pulling a student out of a picture frame, which you didn't even know was something one could be stuck in, you stepped downstairs to the Potions Classroom. Walking through the door, you noticed your eyes at the crowd of students smelling a cauldron on one of the desks near Snape. He shot a bemused smirk your way and you rolled your eyes.

"So," you began, leaning against the wall next to him. "Is that the Amortentia?"

He nodded. "Go ahead, smell it. I know you detest it, but you need to know what it smells like for your essay." He watched as you folded your arms and waited for the crowd to disperse. From the corner of your eye, you saw Snape making his way to the other side of the cauldron.

You knew it could smell like a multitude of things, but knowing that the adoration you had for Snape was more potent than ever, something of him would undoubtedly be present.

Warily, you leaned over the cauldron and deeply inhaled the fumes.

Chocolate chip pancakes (or maybe chocolate chip cookies, or any other baked good with chocolate- they're quite similar in scent).

Air, after a thunderstorm.

Vinyl, fresh from a sleeve.

 _Evergreen_.

Hardly surprised, but still pleased at the multitude of scents, a smile rose to your serene face.

You brought your gaze from the swirling liquid to Snape, the perfumed air partially obscuring your faces. He wasn't smiling, and actually looked quite disturbed. Your smile shifted into a confused frown, and drew your eyebrows together in a question. He gave a slight shake of his head, and retreated. You abandoned the cauldron and sat at your desk.

"What is the name and effect of this potion? Bower," Snape stated, posture impeccable.

"The potion is Amortentia, sir. It's a love potion, that causes the drinker to develop a deep infatuation, and is as powerful as it is dangerous," Kevin Bower, a Slytherin, answered.

"Acceptable, but you are missing a key factor. West?" Snape called on another student. Cassandra West was also a Slytherin.

"Amortentia does not manufacture true love, which is impossible to create. Instead, the drinker will develop a deep infatuation for the administer of the potion. Sir."

"Correct. So, what was the point of smelling the potion? Knight."

You looked up from your notes. "The smell of Amortentia is different for each person, emitting the scent of what the person finds most attractive, whether the person knows it or accepts it," you said, maintaining eye contact with Snape, hoping he would leave it at that. If he asked you what you smelled-

"And what did you smell, for example?" he replied. While he looked casually bored on first glance, as most would probably view, you knew him well. You could see his foot tapping, and his eyebrow quirked up a centimeter in interest.

You cast your gaze down, no longer meeting his eyes. "Chocolate chip pancakes, the air after it rains, and vinyl, sir," you answered, feeling a hot blush erupt on the back of your neck. You simply could not admit that you smelled evergreen. He probably wouldn't make the connection, but it was too much to risk.

A few students snickered at your answer, but after a deadly stare from Snape, they stopped. He continued the lesson, but to what was most likely your imagination, he seemed _disappointed_. You were certainly being dramatic, though, as why would he be? Right?

The lesson ended after your hand had viciously cramped from note taking, and you walked up to his desk after everyone else had left.

"So?" you asked, toying with one of the potion bottles.

He looked up, but your stare was still focused on the items on his desk. "So, what?" He gently removed your hand from the bottle, and begun shuffling papers together.

"What do you smell?"

He froze. "Why would that be any of your concern, and why would you ever think I would tell you something so personal?" he responded, tone scathing, and ushered you out of the door.

You groaned. "Fine, sorry. You asked me what I smelled, so I just figured I would try. Also, you looked somewhat alarmed after smelling it earlier, so I wanted to check in with you."

He flicked his wand, making the door lock, and walked with you to the Hufflepuff common room. "I wasn't alarmed... I was surprised. There was something different when I smelled it, alright? Something I wasn't expecting. Or maybe I was, but not so suddenly. I don't know. I have to go," he babbled, and walked swiftly away after reaching the common room. You frowned, then shrugged, and knocked the barrels in the right pattern to open the passage. It was already four o' clock, so the feast would begin soon.

When you opened the door to the dorm, you sighed dejectedly. Instead of the cheery yellow you had become accustomed to, thick, black tapestries had been draped across the offending walls. Candles littered the ceiling, and five cushions were arranged in the shape of a pentagram.

"Rosaline, we thank you for arriving," Ophelia said solemnly. Fighting the urge to laugh at her morose tone, you quickly put your satchel on your bed and took off your shoes. "Please place your offering in the center."

"You didn't say I needed an offering!" you whisper shouted to Violet on your right, "I thought we were just sitting in a circle and saying some shit!"

She opened one eye. "Just conjure something. It needs to be something that represents you, okay? I put in an origami crane because it brings me luck. I don't care what you do, just do it," she replied, but you rolled your eyes.

"So dramatic, the lot of you," you muttered, and held up your wand. You twisted your wrist in a quick circle, thinking about roses. "Orchideous!"

Yet, of course, because the universe can never make things easy for you, instead of a rose, the spell conjured a dark red lily from the tip of your wand.

You plucked the flower, and put it in the middle of the cluster of offerings. There was a locket, dream catcher, a quill, Violet's crane, and your lily.

You closed your eyes and held hands with Diana and Violet.

"We, five adults of the loyal house of Hufflepuff, on this Samhain in 1988, request the presence of any spirits that wish to make themselves known. We wish no harm, and vow to cause none. Whether it be one, or all of us, we request any information you generously want to give us. We thank you," Ophelia said.

"We thank you," Helena, Diana, and Violet said.

Quickly, you said, "Thank you."

It was quiet for a few minutes. Very slowly, a glowing light was visible through your eyelids, and a slight wind waved your hair. Cautiously, you opened your eyes. The other girls still had theirs closed, and didn't react. Before you, an almost completely transparent woman not much older than you was staring at you with a bemused smile.

"Uh, hello," you said. Yeah, you were shocked, but she seemed cool.

"Hey. Did you summon me? I've been like, super bored for the last six years so this is really exciting," she replied.

"If I did, I don't think I meant to, no offense. My friends kind of dragged me into this ritual, and I'm muggle born, you see, so I didn't think it would really work. But they're Hufflepuffs, so saying no would be like kicking a puppy."

Her smile grew. "Cool! I'm a muggle born, too, but before I died I was in Gryffindor. I'm Lily," She held out her hand to shake yours, but drew it away before you could shake it. "Oh, shit, I don't think I'm supposed to do that. Might leave you in a state of comatose shock."

You gasped. "Lily? No shit! Dude, I think I did summon you, I meant to conjure a rose, because my name is Rose, but I'm bad at Charms and made a lily. Hi!"

She laughed. "Lily and Rose! Damn, you are now my second favorite person named after a flower. Me being first, of course."

You laughed too. "Man, who knew ghosts could be so cool!"

"So, can I help you with anything? Need any advice?" she asked, floating down so she rested in front of you, without touching you.

You made a face. "Okay, you might be a different Lily, but did you know someone named Severus Snape when you were alive?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh my fucking god. Sev? Yeah, I knew him. That idiot. What do you want to know about him?"

You giggled. "He's my Potions professor, and I kinda think I might be possibly, slightly in love with him. But he said he's still hung up on you! And then he gives me these mixed signals- he tried to fucking kiss me a year ago, and played the whole, _'oops! I'm still drunk from last night!'_ card. I don't know what to make of it all."

"Listen, I'll be honest. We were best friends for a while, and then he acted like a complete idiot for a few years. Sure, he technically sold my family out to Voldemort, but he's still a good guy. And girl, he needs to realize that even if we made up before I died, I still didn't love him in a romantic way! James is my man, and always will be," Lily said.

"Sold your family out to Voldemort? What?!"

She sighed. "He made a mistake almost ten years ago. I've forgiven him, and he needs to forgive himself. Besides, Harry lived, being the badass progeny of my husband and I that he is."

"Damn, I'm stupid. Are you Lily Potter? Like, Harry Potter's mum?" you asked.

"Rose, for gods- yes. I'm Lily Potter," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Ohhh. That's an interesting development to know," you stated. "I swear I'm not normally this daft. I guess I don't really have anything else to ask. Sorry for wasting your time. Do you want me to pass on any messages or anything? Like to Harry?"

She stared off with a yearning expression. "I don't really know how you would. He's so young still. But, okay. If you ever see him, can you just let him know that James and I will always be proud of him? And that we love him? Also, that Peter was the fucking rat!" she said, slowly disappearing, then she was gone.

You blinked. Well. That was unexpected. As if waking up, the other girls opened their eyes slowly.

"Thank you for your time. We are now ending the ritual," Ophelia said, and blew out the candle in the center of the circle. The girls all removed their hands from each other.

"So? Anyone hear anything?" Diana asked, stretching.

They all shook their heads.

"Okay, this is gonna sound like bullshit," you said, standing up to turn on the lights, "but Lily Potter talked to me."

They all stared at you in varying degrees of surprise.

"Lily Potter?" Helena asked. "Like, _the_ Lily Potter?"

"Yep. She was pretty cool, to be honest. It was a nice chat. 10/10 would summon again."


	14. i am the resurrection - the stone roses

**November 1, 1988**

You woke up in the Hospital Wing the morning of November 1st. 

You opened your eyes, only to immediately close them from the sudden bright light. "Can someone turn off the sun?" you called out, voice incredibly croaky and raspy. 

You felt the cool press of a flannel against your forehead, and squinted your eyes open once more. The stern face of Madame Pomfrey glared down at you. 

"You children are absolutely ridiculous! Performing such magic, alone, with no supervision? No wonder you fainted, foolish girl. I expected better from you especially, Miss Knight. I cannot imagine how you managed to survive eighteen years..." she berated, while you surveyed the room. You were no stranger to the Hospital Wing, but it was usually as a volunteer, assisting Pomfrey with minor injuries. Surrounding your bed were multiple chairs, all empty, except for the one directly to your right. That chair held a distinct black cloak, and was noticeably rumpled in such a way that could only occur with sleep.

Snape. 

He wasn't there, but it had to have been his chair. You desperately needed to talk to him, because _whatthefuckisheafuckingdeatheatingfucker,_ which made Pomfrey follow your gaze to the chair, mistaking your look of shock with yearning.

"Do you know how worried you made him, Rosaline?" she asked, reverting back to your more familiar name. She stared at you with stern knowingness. "He was here all night, He must be bone-tired." 

"Great idea for a school night, Professor Snape. He's brilliant, isn't he?" you replied with sarcasm. Pomfrey just rolled her eyes and proceeded to give you a check up. 

And _shit_. Knowing he was concerned enough to lose a night of sleep over you was sweet, but he was also a _sodding Voldemort follower._ If that isn’t a total turn off, you didn’t know what was. The war ended less than ten years ago, and Snape was on the side of it that despised your existence enough to form the fucking Wizard Nazis, complete with a Wizard Hitler and Wizard Hitler Youth. Oh, Merlin, did he have the Dark Mark? The Wizard Swastika? 

Maybe Lily wasn’t a reliable source of information. 

Or maybe she was, and Snape was a Death Eater, and everything you thought you knew about him had to be reconsidered. 

"So, where is he?" you asked, sitting up. 

"He has classes, girl! He tried to get out of them, trust me, but Headmaster Dumbledore insisted that you would want him to share the 'joy of learning,' as he put it," Pomfrey stated. "He said he would be back for lunch, however." 

It’s hard, to be simultaneously disgusted and to care so deeply for someone. But it’s not impossible. 

You protested. "I'm fine! I can go now, really, I feel great-" You made to stand up, but felt your shoulder get gently pushed back down, which was probably for the better because you felt dizzy almost immediately. 

You sighed, and looked back at his chair. You would need to tell him about The Lily Summoning. Tactfully, but with a notable lack of bullshit. You would make him down Veritaserum if need be. If any, _any,_ anti-muggle born speech came from him, it would be over. Not that there was anything _to_ end. 

Just the trust and bond you had developed with him for six years. Oh, and a lot of adoration. Like, at least 30% of your heart. 

The rest of the morning proceeded extremely slowly. Your gaze couldn’t help but dart to his chair every few minutes. He obviously cared for you, but how much could that care extend if he spent at least part of his life following a man (a monster) who believed muggle borns were worth less than other wizards and witches? Lily was almost absurdly nonchalant about the whole thing, but would that be enough? Would knowing that the woman he loved had backed him up, be enough?

Speaking of Lily, though, what did she mean when she said that Severus (no, not Severus, he’s your teacher, Rose, and a Death Eater) sold her family out to Voldemort? Was he the reason Voldemort targeted the Potter family? Why would he do that to his self proclaimed ‘true love?’ 

And there he was. You heard him before you saw him, and you hated yourself for the speeding up of your heart. 

His cool demeanor was nowhere to be found as he strode up to your hospital bed with a panicked expression. 

“Rosaline! Are you alright? What happened? Your roommates said that you tried a summoning? Is that true? How could you be so daft as to put your life at risk?” he demanded. He extended his hand as if to hold yours, but you flinched. He pulled his hand away with a concerned expression. 

Your brows furrowed as you responded with a low voice. “We need to talk, and it needs to be in private. I know things I probably shouldn’t, but I don’t know how correct they are.” 

His eyes widened in shock. “What are you talking about? What exactly happened last night?” 

Your hands tightened in the sheets. “I will explain everything, but it really does need to be in private. If I know what I think I know, it needs to be divulged in a safe location.” You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “I know this sounds dramatic, but like I said, if I’m right, we have to talk.” 

“Oh...okay?” he responded, worried, face turned whiter than usual. He nodded sharply, then made a move as if to sit on his chair from earlier, but you spoke as he began to bend. 

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t see you right now. I’ll come by your office tonight, after supper, alright?” you asked, trying to maintain eye contact and a confident exterior. 

Snape pulled back, noticeably hurt. 

“I’m sorry,” your voice broke as you spoke, but even the sight of him made your stomach twist, and not in the typical way of affection, but in a horrible feeling of revulsion. 

He searched your face for… what? Answers that you didn’t understand? For some hidden emotion that you deigned him unworthy of? You weren’t sure, but seconds later, he turned around and walked out of the hospital wing without a backwards glance, leaving his cloak on the chair yet again. 

The rest of your stay in the clinic was average. Following the visit from Snape, you conjured a quill and piece of parchment to write down as much as you could remember from the night before, coming up with a brief page of notes. 

-

The Lily Summoning (Unsure about how true all of this is, only witness is a ghost) 

Notes:

  * Lily Potter was best friends with Severus Snape
  * Snape loves Lily (now and then) 
  * Snape sold out the Potters to Voldemort
  * Snape was a Death Eater 
  * (Not really relevant, but I might be friends with Lily Potter and that’s pretty cool)



Questions to ask Snape:

  * Were you a Death Eater?
  * Did you send Voldemort after the Potter family?
  * What happened between you and Lily? 
  * Do you still love her?
  * ~~Do you love me?~~



-

So, not very helpful, but certainly important for asking Snape. God, what if it was all true? If Snape was a Death Eater, sold out the Potters, and is in love with a woman who passed away almost ten years ago, what could you do? Could you forgive him? 

It was only the first of November. You had _almost eight months_ left at Hogwarts. 

Shit. It also _really_ didn’t help that he looked great without wearing a cloak. 


	15. every feeling - ezra furman

**November 1, 1988**

By the time seven o’clock came, you were resolved to either receive the complete truth from Snape, or to stop seeing him. It was obvious that you both cared for one another; frankly, anyone at Hogwarts could see how the cool demeanor of the Potions Professor could easily be cracked under the quick smile or a poor pun from you, Rosaline Knight. Or, how the Hufflepuff-Slytherin 7th year Potions NEWT class had significantly less complaints than the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw class. The affection, the sight of two kindred souls complimenting each other, did not go unnoticed by the Hogwarts population.

You knew all of that. Really, you did, and you appreciated it. Honestly, it was enough to have Snape as your friend, and the fact that he was quite conspicuous about it (for him, anyway) flattered you. It would be a shame to lose it, but it would be worse if he had been hiding such a large part of himself, and his past, from you. 

You did know him suitably well, as much as one would know a close friend. He adored the Clash and the Doors, but under your guide, had begun to follow music by Talking Heads and the Sex Pistols. He didn’t care for sports, but would listen with one ear as you talked about football while he did the crossword or read his Potions Periodicals. He despised peas. You could pretend to have to convince him to allow you to come with him to collect ingredients, but you knew he really did enjoy company. He would also have to convince himself that he could exist without you, but you didn’t know that, and he pretended not to. 

Again, it would be awful to lose that. But it would be significantly worse to associate, to befriend, to be hopelessly in _love_ with someone who agreed with the politics of Lord Voldemort. 

Because love was what it was. You couldn't think the word without wanting to strangle him and his nonsense, but that's what it was. 

Madam Pomfrey discharged you from the infirmary at seven o’ clock with your multiple promises to restrict your magic use to lessons- _which you should be doing anyhow, young lady!_ \- and to eat a filling dinner. 

“And you will not do any more foolish rituals, Rosaline! I mean it! If I see you in here again for anything but refilling my stores and treating injuries, you will not be happy!” Pomfrey called after your retreating back, with you raising a hand in acknowledgement in response. Waiting outside the Hospital Wing were your roommates. Your lips upturned in an easy smile, ready for the admonishment. 

“Rose! How dare you pass out and make us feel completely awful for… Diana, what’s the hour count?” Ophelia asked. 

Diana checked her watch quite ostentatiously. “Approximately twenty seven hours and fourteen minutes.” 

The other girls nodded in assent, while you rolled your eyes, a smile remaining. How wonderful it felt to be doted on.

You threw arms around Diana and Helena, while Violet led the pack to the Great Hall. You were filled with both dread and anticipation for your meeting with Snape. The worst that could happen is that he was a Death Eater, he supported Voldemort, and he secretly wanted to kill you. But! The best that could happen is that the ghost of a fallen hero lied to you from beyond the grave, and Severus Snape was the esteemed Potions Master and Professor that he presented himself to be. 

Okay, so it might’ve been somewhat of a lose-lose scenario. 

Dinner passed with furtive looks to an empty chair at the Head Table, questions from other students about your wellbeing, and trying to force down at least half of the food on your plate, with some helpful prompting of your friends. 

“Thanks, everyone, but I really do need to get going. I need to talk with Professor Snape. No need to stay up for me, I expect we will be talking for a while. Also, I do have rounds tonight. So, ta.” You pushed yourself up from the table, and left the Great Hall. 

You walked down the damp steps to the dungeons, hands wringing in doubt and perspiration. The need to see Snape and get explanations filled you with lead. The longing for his confirmation or denial like a physical weight pushed on your chest, and it dwelled on you right until you knocked on his classroom door. 

The door swung upon, his narrowed eyes and long nose cast down on you. You stared right back with trepidation and a sense of courage that could rival that of a Gryffindor. 

“Do you feel better?” he asked snidely, still blocking the door. 

You cast your gaze beyond him, looking into an empty classroom, but it was an office filled with the warm glow of a lit fireplace that caught your attention. “Can I just come in? I’m sure you’re confused-” He cut you off with a derisive snort, “and I can explain, but you need to as well.” 

With a toss of his head over his shoulder, he stepped out of the doorframe and walked into his private office, checking back only once to make sure you followed. You shut the door to the classroom, and trailed behind him. 

You sat across from him in your chair. You decided to not make yourself as comfortable as you usually would, by draping your legs across one arm, or on top of his desk, and by the way his eyebrows drew, he noticed. 

“Let’s get right into it, I suppose,” you said, trying to observe his reactions. He folded his hands on the desk, and stared at you. “So, my roommates and I decided to try a Samhain ritual, because, why not? We’re witches, we’re of age, and it could be an interesting experience.

“I’ll admit, I should have informed myself more, and researched it better before we actually did it, but, I didn’t. The thing I didn’t realize was that we had to have a physical element that reflected who we are. I tried the ‘Orchideous’ charm to conjure a flower, a rose, but I failed. I conjured a lily, instead.” 

At this, Snape sharply inhaled and his eyes shut. You could tell that he was beginning to realize what had happened. 

You continued. “I did not have much hope that it would work anyway, and the girls were waiting on me, so I decided to just use the lily. The others did some kind of speech before, but again, I wasn’t well informed on the ritual, so, I didn’t do the proper chanting. Either way, it worked for me. I was able to contact someone who had passed. Lily Potter.” 

He whimpered, mouth pulled taut. Eyes still shut. Hands clasped tightly, knuckles whitening. 

“I think it must've been because she died on Hallowe'en, maybe? And I got lucky enough to conjure a lily? Anyhow, she talked to me. Actually, she was quite nice, very calm for having been momentarily called to the mortal world. She made jokes. She called you Sev.”

A pause. 

“She told me about Voldemort.” 

He gasped, and his right hand flew to his left forearm. Your own sigh of resignation left you, and you watched him with a new sense of displeasure. 

“She said that you sold out her family. Her family, Snape. You sold her, her husband, and their infant son, out to Voldemort.” 

Silence. 

“Do you have anything to say? Any rebuttal as to what she said? Did you really serve the man, the _monster_ that wanted to exterminate anyone who was like me?” Your voice broke on almost every other word, but was still strong, still needing answers.

He opened his eyes to see you with your own hot tears, not of sadness, but of anger, fat and stuffy, trailing down your cheeks. 

“No. It’s true. Everything Lily said, was true. I served Him. I have the Mark. I told him of the Potters, and they died because of me,” he whispered. 

Your gaze flitted between the blazing fire and his eyes, black and hurt and anguished. You shook your head, in consideration.

“Is there anything else you can say to justify this? If not, when I leave, I’m leaving. You need to tell me everything if you've ever respected me... ever cared about me. I thought you did?” you questioned, heartbreakingly quiet, and he knew you meant it.

“Rose,” his voice cracked, “I swear to you, I am not the person I was all those years ago when I made that mistake. All of it was a horrible, despicable mistake that I will regret for the rest of my life. I am trying to absolve some of it, as much of it as I can, and I know it will still never be enough.” 

He took a deep breath, and continued, “I can promise you, Rose, I promise, that I care about you. I cared about Lily. All the nonsense of magical purity was rubbish. I was a lonely idiot for following any of it, and I don’t believe that absurdity now. Please, I’m begging you, believe me.”

You nodded, not in forgiveness, but acknowledgement that you understood what he was saying. “I also wanted to tell you that she said she forgives you.” 

His eyes widened in disbelief. “What?” 

“She believes that you know you made a mistake, and she forgives you. She said you need to stop beating yourself up about it.” You stood while he stared at you in shock. “I-I do need to think about this. She had almost ten years to do so, and I just learned about it.” 

He remained in his chair as you exited, briefing looking at him before you left his office for the last time. 

-

Yet, it wasn’t for lack of trying on your part. If nothing else, you were loyal, and you were willing to give people the benefit of the doubt- people _can_ change. Certainly, the man who put up with you, you and your puns and your music and your love for animals but absolute detestment of fish (they were creepy, okay!), could not be the exact, same man that served under Voldemort. 

You **_knew_ ** that. Really, you did. 

But sometimes, a gut feeling isn’t enough for some people, and in that case, knowing you knew his past, it wasn’t enough for him.

So, what else are you to do but return to your dorm, have a good cry over the tragedy that is your life, and go to sleep? 

The next morning, at six thirty, with puffy eyes and a new sense of determination, you made the trip back to his office. 

The stones on the walls perspired, the cracks almost seeming to laugh at your return.

You knocked. Nothing. 

“Snape? It’s Rose, again. Can we please talk?” you asked, your voice reverberating against his door in the empty hallway.

Nothing. 

You cast your gaze to each side, hoping to catch a glimpse of black robes or the tail end of a smirk. Utter emptiness was reflected back to you. 

You rapped your knuckles on the door, feeling more like an idiot than ever. “You should know by now how dramatic I can be! I don't want to lose your friendship... please open the door.”

You continued knocking.

-

“I had nothing to forgive in the first place! I didn’t even know you then! I haven’t even been discriminated against for my blood status, and you make me laugh, and I have an O in your class because your voice sounds like a wet dream, and I miss my best friend!” 

-

You kicked the door in frustration. “I’m a Hufflepuff, for god’s sake! I forgive people really easily, especially people who know how many sugars I take in my tea!” 

-

“You know, I’m just going to keep causing a ruckus until you come out. Frankly, this is quite embarrassing for you. If I were you, I would come out just to tell me to stop, really.” 

-

“It’s been ages, Professor, I do have class, you know!” It had been ten minutes, and you did not have class in the morning. 

You rolled your eyes. Was he a prick? Yeah, of course he was! For all the Death Eater stuff, sure, but more so for ignoring you. Well, okay, maybe not. The truth, the hard, cold, dead truth was that he did a dumb thing, and it really wasn’t your thing to forgive. 

Finally, you exploded, everything you thought and wanted to say came bursting out of you in a word volcano. “You were indoctrinated into a cult, you git! You were surrounded by other people who had been cast aside by society, and when some blokes who say, ‘hey, kids, do you want to make the world a better place, a place where you can be included,’” you said with an unidentifiable accent, “of course you and your loser friends said yes, Snape, and honestly, I don’t _completely_ blame you. 

“Were you an idiot? Sure, you were, but were you also peer pressured and bullied and left feeling like you only had one option left? Yeah, mate, seems like it to me! And, as much as you proclaim otherwise, we are friends. Hear that, lingering students? I am friends with Severus- damn it, what is your middle name?- Snape! And I am a muggle born witch! A muggle born witch with a perchance for danger, and that isn’t relevant to this rant, but it is important to make note of!” 

You stormed from his office to the kitchens, passing by stunned students along the way. One student attempted to ask you what was going on, and you flipped him two fingers. Nowhere in the Hufflepuff creed did it actually say badgers must be kind at all times, did it? 

No, and frankly, when angered, badgers are notably aggressive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally this was chapter 15 and 16, but i combined them! so dw if you're like, 'hey, why is there one less chapter?' that's why!


	16. salt and the sea - the lumineers

Your name is Severus Snape. 

It's not a great name, but it could be worse. 

You're born the son of a drunkard and a woman who's trying her best. You're fine for a couple of years, it's not great, but it could be worse. You know that, everyone says that. 

But then, you meet someone who's like you. 

She can do the bizarre things you can do, and yeah, her sister is kind of annoying _('and a_ _muggle,'_ that voice in the back of your head whispers), and you wish she weren't there, but your flower. 

She's worth it. She makes everything worth it. 

Then the day comes when you get to be together every day, and you get to learn new things, and you don't have to worry about flying fists or a sparse dinner table. 

So you go to the train station, board together, and then, you see the dog and the stag. Though she says that they're gits and worthless little punks, you see a flicker of interest, not just from the deer, but from the flower. 

But it's alright! You're together! 

And then she puts on the hat; she's a lion, and you're a snake, and you're alone again. 

You sit next to some blond ponce with a shiny badge and big smiles and false promises.

But you're still friends with the flower. You have classes together, show each other secrets of the castle, and you have fun. 

Yet, what's always there but the deer and the dog and the wolf and the rat. 

You're not friends with them.

When the flower isn't there, you get pushed, you push back. You insult, they insult back. 

But that's fine! You still have the flower! 

And hey, maybe that blond bloke isn't that big of a ponce anyway. Actually, a lot of the things he's saying kind of make sense. 

One day, a push is more than a push and it represents misplaced justices and desires. You get cast aside by the flower. You get humiliated in front of everyone, and suddenly, the things the blond bloke were saying actually make perfect sense. 

There's something off about it, but they welcome you. They include you. They won't insult you. You, Severus Snape, get to be part of something. 

But in that, you can still see your flower, and she is friends with the deer. Then dating the deer. Then she's married to the deer. 

And then she has a baby with the deer. 

While you become a Death Eater. You kill, not literally but through ideas and hatred. You torture, through words and insults and promises of a better future that don't include your flower. 

_'But she's different,'_ you say, _'she's not like the others. She's special.'_

So you go for a drink. You know that there's a job interview at the pub. And there's your old headmaster, the lion who never cared much for the snakes, and he goes off to a back room. You follow, and you listen, and you report back to the man who gave you a chance. 

But then, you find out that the thing you heard, from the lion and the seer, they were talking about your flower. 

Suddenly, the speeches your Lord proclaimed made no sense, actually, how could you think that they ever made sense in the first place, if they were going to hurt your flower? 

So you go back to the lion, being the snake that you always were, and you beg for forgiveness and redemption, and he grants it. 

He promises no one will pick your flower. 

But they do. 

They pick your flower, they kill the deer, and all that's left is the whelp of the man that bullied you and insulted you and humiliated you. 

And then. 

You start teaching at the place where yes, you joined that _awfulawfulnogoodbadlilyimissyou_ cult, but you also were granted peace from that small house in Spinner's End. 

And you meet someone. 

She's annoying. 

She makes too many jokes in class. 

Her potions are adequate. 

But there's something about her that reminds you of your flower. 

Not the same of course, never the same. But she is special, and for a while, it's enough. 

It's almost like meeting that girl fifteen years ago, again. So you help her with Charms and listen to her jokes. Her music taste, if anything, is better than your flower's. 

She's fifteen. She's more than just a girl. She's your friend, and it's almost like your flower's back. 

But no, let's, let's ignore that. That didn't happen. 

She's sixteen, and dear god you let her sleep in your office, Severus? _Despicablehowyoucouldyouruinedtheonlygoodthingyouhave._

Yet, because it's her, she stays. And everything is still okay! It's not over yet. 

She's seventeen. It's your birthday, and you make a poor decision, drinking and saying and doing too much. 

And she _listens_. 

No, wait, that didn't happen either, it's fine. She probably doesn't even remember. _YoutriedtokissherwhywhwyWHYWHYFAILURE._

She's still seventeen. 

She's sitting on a fountain alone, and she says she's not going to pursue Potions, and your world stops. 

Then. 

She says she only enjoyed your class because you taught it, and your world starts spinning fast, much too fast. 

She leaves, and you think and think and think and think, and you realize, you're in love with this new flower, who actually isn't like your old flower at all.

This flower likes you back, and this one spends time with you even when you're a git. She likes T. Rex and football and is a Hufflepuff but she can rip you a new one when you deserve it. She has a sweet tooth and wants to help animals. She reads Shakespeare because she adores her namesake and volunteers at AIDS clinics and makes her own earrings. _This flower likes you back._

A couple months pass. Things are alright, and then better than ever, she's eighteen, and, because your name is Severus Snape, failure, she learns everything. 

She knows about your flower, and your Lord, and your past. She says that your flower forgives you, but she also leaves, and for once, you know that your new flower is, maybe not more important than your old flower, but she is just _as_ important. 

And while your heart jumps at the thought of forgiveness, it also weeps for the loss of her. 

So, what do you do when a new seed is planted, and you want nothing more than to grow with it?

You let the new seed stay, because you didn't plant it; someone else will take care of it, much better than you ever could. Everyone knows what happened the last time you cared for anything that wasn't yourself.

You can water it occasionally, but you can't tend to it, you aren't responsible enough for that. The flower is too precious for that. 

The flower deserves the sun, not the moon. The flower needs a butterfly, a bumblebee, not a wasp, a mosquito that sucks away the life from anything that brings it joy. 

So you ignore the flower. She'll be fine, you're sure. You'll check up on it, try to move the shade when you can, but you're not in charge of it. 

And so, the snake vowed to leave the flower alone. The flower wants that anyway, she said so yesterday. 

Even when she knocks on your door, spouting foolishness about forgiveness, you ignore her, because you're a snake, a solitary creature, and she's a flower. 

-

But, what you don't realize is that this whole time, she wasn't a flower. 

She wasn't delicate. 

She wouldn't stand in front of her child and beg your Lord to kill her instead, no. She would punch your Lord, shove his wand up his nose, grab her son, and flee. 

It's noble to stand for someone, to die for someone, but it's also noble to punch a wizard Nazi right in the face. 

So, no, she wasn't a flower, but a badger, and badgers are nocturnal. Badgers are carnivores. 

Rose wasn't a rose, but a badger and a fighter and a lover. She didn't need a protector, thank you very much, Severus Snape. In fact, she did not need a hero, because she was her own hero.

  
  



	17. hate myself - dodie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {Recap: Rosaline decided to forgive Severus since she never experienced the blood prejudice she was mad at Snape for participating in- but she knows he’s an idiot for doing so and they really just need to talk about it without one of them running out pissed. Snape is acting self deprecating as usual, and believes Rose to be too precious for him to “ruin.” What he’s forgetting, however, is that she never considered being tainted to be a bad thing in which to be saved from.}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big update! words! many words! maybe my longest chapter at around 5,700 (which to some, is chump word count, but for me, that’s pretty good).
> 
> warning! this chapter does get a bit heavy, so general trigger warning for mentions of cult mentality, hate speech, light discussion of grooming and predatory behavior, along with all the other bad bits that come with war. 
> 
> also, huge endnote that you can totally skip but if you want a bit more insight, check it out! okay! enjoy!

**November 2, 1988**

Your plan to win over Snape (‘ _Severus’,_ your mind wanted to supply, with whispered pleas of reconciliation) with chocolate chip pancakes was foiled by your own horrendous baking skills. You blamed it on being spoiled by the house elves of Hogwarts for almost a decade, but knew the true culprit was a lack of patience and an abundance of urgency. 

Blinky, a kitchen house elf, walked up next to you. “Miss, those pancakes are not looking very good, not good at all, Blinky thinks, would Miss like help?” The house elf of an unidentifiable gender was staring at the burned cakes with poorly concealed horror. 

You grimaced. “They really aren’t, are they? Beyond the help of whipped cream and syrup, or would those help, you think?” you asked, and poked one of the less blackened cakes with a spatula. It slightly deflated under your prodding. 

“No, but Blinky is happy to help Miss Knight! Yes, Blinky said so before Miss started, but Miss wanted to do it on her own.” Blinky hopped a few times, waving an extra dish towel to clear out some of the lingering smoke.

“Yes, you did. I should have listened to you, clearly,” you paused, then looked down to meet Blinky’s eyes, “Do you think I’m making up my mind too quickly? I mean, I don’t have much room to talk, I wasn’t even part of the war, but I do certainly see the ramifications of it. I’ve been called the m-slur, but I’ve also never lost anyone close to me or been really damaged by intergenerational blood prejudice. Is there a hierarchy of oppression?” 

Blinky looked back and forth. “Blinky is confused, Miss Knight. Yes, very confused.” 

“Right.” You sighed. You lost the plot. You incanted, “ _Evanesco_ ,” over the pancakes, and pitied the poor sod who would ever have to interact with those monstrosities. Where did vanished objects even go? Snape would know, and probably call you an idiot for your own lack of knowledge. “Could you just give me a minute?” 

Blinky nodded, and with a crack, they were gone. You looked back at the now clean preparation counter with a withering glance. 

\- 

Two failed batches later (the former notably undercooked and the other blackened beyond recognition), you decided to take it as a sign that maybe, it wasn’t a good idea anyway; the last time you had breakfast together, you and Snape, was probably the beginning of the end. 

Remembering the almost-kiss was like trying to remember a dream several hours after waking up. Pieces of it were there, but there had to be bits you were missing. Did _he_ really lean in? Did _you_ really pull away?

You shook the thoughts from your head internally. It didn’t do any good to dwell on what-ifs.

Casting a _Tempus_ , you saw that it was late enough in the day that he would have begun his morning class, though you still wouldn’t have your first until after lunch. 

So, you decided to abandon the kitchens. They had done little for you except make you crave chocolate chip pancakes, that, somehow, were above your skill level.

Giving a parting wave to the house elves and miscellaneous students, you stepped out of the portrait, only to bump into Dumbledore. 

“Miss Knight! How wonderful to see you, my dear. Having a fruitful morning are you?” He, quite obviously, cast his gaze to the portrait of a bowl of fruit that hid the entrance to the kitchens. 

You buried your head in your hands and groaned, only to hear his (surprisingly, for a man of his age) full laughter. As much as you could criticize the guy, he had a few good puns up his velvet sleeves.

“Actually, not really. Apparently, it is harder to bake pancakes without a recipe than I thought,” you admitted. 

“Ah, I see,” he said, and somehow, you thought he did, and that you were both talking about something other than pancakes. 

“Snape told me some things,” you began, “Well, actually, I told him that I knew some things and he subsequently told me those things were true. You know what I’m talking about… right?”

Dumbledore looked down to meet your gaze, and before he could respond, lips already parted, a few students came barreling down the hall. They slowed their pace to an energetic walk after spotting their headmaster, however.

“Perhaps we should carry this conversation on elsewhere, hm?” he asked. He began walking towards the stairs that lead to the first floor, and thus, to his office, with you trailing slightly behind. 

You wished you could say Dumbledore was the harmless, pleasant old man that so many people cast him as, but he wasn’t. Yet, he also wasn’t some evil mastermind whose only intention was to defeat all dark magic in the world, and let Gryffindors rule above all others, as other people claimed him to be. 

Dumbledore was kind, but he wasn’t innocent either. You knew he played favorites, but he also advocated for the equality of all. It was, unfortunately, too well known that people in positions of power will use those roles for their benefit above all else, and Dumbledore was no exception. 

That being said, he was making an effort to change. You liked to think that your weekly tea parties were a conduit of changing his mind on some issues; the less dramatic phrasing being: talking about shit that no one actually wants to talk about _is a good thing._

You waved to a few of your yearmates on the walk up, stopping dutifully behind Dumbledore as he stated, “ _Chocolate Frog_!” 

He looked back at you. “I’ve begun using the names of Wizarding candy for the passwords. What do you think?” 

You followed him up the stairs., your voice becoming a bit doubtful, “Might become a bit less of a secret after a while? People will be able to just guess popular candy until they find the right one and then rob you. Or do other things, probably not good ones.” 

He laughed again, genially. “Thank you for your concern, I’ll take it into consideration.” 

You took that to mean that he would continue his candy brigade for a decade. 

Entering his office, you took a seat in the chair opposite his desk. He tapped his wand on a coaster on his desk, and a full tea service arrived, complete with a breakfast spread including, yes, chocolate chip pancakes.

“Alright, now I know they’re doing that on purpose,” you muttered, but that did not stop you from spearing a pancake onto a decorative plate, and drizzling some syrup on top. And, dammit, they were quite enjoyable. Perfect fluffiness, correct chocolate to cake ratio, and warm, but not scalding. 

“So, to begin a discussion on Professor Snape,” Dumbedore started, and you quickly finished a bite and a swig of tea (slightly burning the top of your mouth, but you _would_ resist fanning it), “we first must discuss a man named Tom Riddle. 

“To understand Tom Riddle, and to understand his wickedness, one must first acknowledge how loneliness and a lack of love can create a monstrous man- and Rosaline, this is very important to distinguish- he is a man. He is not a monster.

“He is but a man, with evil ideas that sparked hatred and prejudice. He _chose_ to become monstrous, because he tried being a man, and decided that was too difficult. It was easier, for Tom, to become a figurehead for ideals of blood purity, and the mass genocide of those he deemed unworthy. We cannot say he is a monster, because this dehumanizes him, makes his actions foregin, impossible. He, at the least, is a man.

“He took any idea that would bring him any power, and in this case, the idea of blood purity, and mainstreamed it. People who idealized this concept in private could now express it openly again. Not only that, but he became a safe haven for those without a place, such as Professor Snape, and countless others who I will not name. 

“So, yes, I am speaking of Lord Voldemort, but this is also a very important concept to understand- do not give power to those whom you believe do not deserve it, even, in this case, the simple act of calling him by the name he created. By simply saying the name he chose for himself, we allow him to separate himself from his humanity. His name is Tom Riddle, and by calling him by his true name, we not only take away the fear of his moniker, but of the crimes associated with it. We must despise it, we must vow for it to never happen again, but we cannot fear it. We must learn from it. We must work in the present to make the future better.”

He continued, “So, how does this connect to Professor Snape? First, you must understand that there are many elements of his story that I am not at liberty to tell, simply because it is not my story. But, also, you must understand that even now, almost ten years after that Hallowe’en night, Professor Snape is still in danger and at a risk that I cannot further expose him to because of this conversation.” 

“Yes, of course, the last thing I would want to do is put him in any harm, necessary or not,” you accepted. It did seem odd that this sort of conversation wasn’t held in classrooms, and you had to seek out the _headmaster_ in order to have it. 

“So, to begin, we have to understand that Tom, as I mentioned earlier, purposefully targeted those with preexisting hatred, or, those who felt they had no place to belong. And, this, I suspect was coming from his own comprehension and understanding of feeling out of place. From the perspective of someone like you, a more charismatic, outgoing individual, this concept of needing to belong may be more foreign than someone else who struggles with fitting in,” Dumbledore paused to take a sip of his own tea. 

“No,” you disagreed. “Honestly, I think everyone has felt alone at some point, no matter how outgoing they are or not. And, as much as I like the man, Snape should not be forgiven for the sole fact that he was lonely, and finally felt like he had a place. He was wrong to join the Death Eaters, but it’s his actions after that redeemed him,” you said, “He was in a cult, and it took the death of his master to free him. But, I also know that it took the targeting of his friend to make him begin to see how wrong he was.” 

“He told you?” Dumbledore questioned, looking surprised. 

Your nose crinkled to mask a wince, “Not exactly, but I know that Snape was the one who heard the prophecy that saw Harry Potter as the Chosen One.” 

“... how in Hogwarts’ name do you know that?” he asked, and he looked more than surprised. 

He looked _frightened._

“The point isn’t how I know, it’s that I know,” you paused, “Okay, the ghost of Lily Potter told me, but that doesn’t sound believable, now does it?” 

He shook his head ‘no.’ 

“I told him this all already, even that I forgive him, but, and as I told him, his misdeeds aren’t mine to forgive.” You felt like a broken record, repeating what you already said and thought.

“Rosaline, as noble as that is, you have a right to be angry with him,” Dumbledore continued, and held up a hand before you could interrupt him. “He was wrong, and he has absolved for a great number of his faults, but what he did could be, and is, considered by a great number of people, to be above forgiveness. Just like how, yes, it was wrong that Tom grew up in such isolation that he felt the only path for him was destruction, but he is still responsible for what he did and caused.”

You spoke up, outraged, “Snape was brainwashed! It was a cult, and they took advantage of his loneliness for their own agenda! _Of course_ he made wrong decisions, and-”

He shook his head. “Rose- Professor Snape knew better. He is and was smart, he made the decision to join because he wanted revenge, was depressed, and, like Tom, felt alone. It took the drastic idea of the possible death of one of his loved ones to convince him to join the other side.

“I know how debilitating loneliness can be. How desperate one can be to try and escape it. In the end, it was loneliness that sent him to Voldemort’s side, and it was loneliness that convinced him to leave it.” 

You worked your bottom lip between your teeth. “I can fault him for joining, even though he should never have felt so isolated that he felt he had no other option, but I just can’t for staying,” you confessed, “He was indoctrinated, in part by you and other Gryffindor fanatics, but mostly Riddle, of course, to believe that being in Slytherin is inherently bad. He was immediately cast into the narrative you wanted him to fit- that Slytherins, _eleven year olds_ , are corrupt.

“When he joined, which, obviously, he knew better than to do- his best friend was Lily Potter, for Merlin’s sake- he finally wasn’t ostracized. He had a role, he felt needed, and most importantly, he finally felt that being Slytherin didn’t mean he wasn’t worthy,” you broke off, “At least, that’s what I assume. I can only assume based on what I know about cults, which is solely what I remember reading about the Manson Family. Voldemort gave people the chance to feel like they weren’t bad for the sole reason that they were Slytherins. Ack, Riddle, sorry, not Voldemort.”

You paused. “I don’t know a lot about it, but I do know that he, and others, most likely _several_ others, fell victim to the cult tactics that Riddle used, and that, I cannot fault him for- that’s what I tried to apologize for this morning. For acting on my shock and belittling him down to the horrors he faced in the war. It’s what I will continue to apologize for, because as soon as I knew about his past, I immediately cast him into the role that I’ve spent so much time trying to prove was wrong to assume. At the same time, however, there must be accountability for people’s actions, which he did take.”

Dumbledore sighed and it was the oldest sound you’ve ever heard. 

“I do not know how to convince you that you have nothing to apologize for.” He sounded almost desperate in his urgency.

“Snape joined because of vile, hateful reasons. He stayed because he was brainwashed. He left because of the death of his longtime best friend, as he told me, his unrequited love. And, now, he works for you, basically the antithesis of Voldemort. I needed to apologize because after learning the slightest bit of information, I felt the need to confront and back him into a corner he hasn’t had to face in a decade. That was wrong of me.

“I was not apologizing for his crimes, which were wrong, or for his own actions, which were his own,” you responded, and took another drink of your nearly full tea. It was cold. “I’m sure my response would be different if Voldemort won, but I do not want to entertain the idea of such atrocities.” 

“Very wise, as you tend to be,” he said, but his voice had the dreamy, faraway inflections you only recognized in the hazy conversations held in the smoke-filled Hufflepuff dorms on Friday nights. “As I tend to, I feel that I have gained more from our conversation than you. How wonderful it is to be so old and to learn so much.”

You stared, then looked back into your cup. What _did_ the elves put in the tea?

“Severus has always been a very private person. He is the hardest on himself, and he has the greatest self doubt and guilt complex than anyone I have ever met. He is not defined to his biggest mistakes, but, unfortunately, as many people are, he _is_ marred by them.” Dumbledore again stood, and this time, you followed him. 

“I accept much responsibility for his, and many other Slytherins, joining the Death Eaters,” he said, and turned to you with his shoulders visibly weighed down. “And I respect how kind you are to look beyond the err’s of one’s past.”

As the two of you continued your slow leave of his office, you sensed a ‘but.’ 

“But,” and there it was, “ultimately, it was his decision to join, his decision to continue, and his decision to leave.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Yes? I agree- well, other than believing it was his decision to continue, I do. Yet, as there tends to be, outside factors led to his decision to join, and you, along with the culture of Hogwarts, were parts of that. The loveless life of Tom Riddle, the loneliness of Severus Snape, and the countless other ailments that led to students joining the Death Eaters.”

Dumbledore exhaled. “Perhaps it would be best if we continued this discussion more later. But! If I could give you any advice, however, I would say that no matter how difficult this may be for you, time does not heal all wounds, but it does mend grazes. It may be a good idea to just let the matter lie. You are in your final year, your studies are more important now than any other time.” 

You nodded your understanding. “Right. Yeah, I’ll just do that, I think.” You began to walk away, but remembered something before you could fully leave. “Wait! Why were you hanging out by the kitchens, anyway? Don’t you have, and no offense, but a school to run?” 

“You aren’t the only one who enjoys a good pancake, Miss Knight.” He winked, as he does when a situation does _not_ warrant a wink, and disappeared behind the corner. 

“... right,” you agreed, though he was too far gone to have heard.

Though he could be a bit ‘much’ sometimes, and you didn’t always agree with him, he did tend to have the right idea more often than not. 

Through the years, if you had learned one thing about Snape, it was that he was unyielding, and he only gave up that he was wrong when he knew there was no way left for him to be right. 

It seemed, unfortunately, that the only thing left to do, would be to wait. 

-

You followed your conversation with Dumbledore with meeting your friends outside of the Great Hall, who were, yet again, annoyed with you for leaving the dorm without saying anything. 

“We need to put a tracking spell on you, seriously,” Diana said, and flicked your forehead. 

“Ow!” You rubbed the spot aggressively, and glared. “I’m sorry that I have things to do, people to see. Well, Dumbledore _could_ be _technically_ considered a person. And I saw him.” 

Violet hurried in front of you to walk backwards and maintain eye contact at the same time. What talent. “You, out of the five of us, are the most statistically likely to get into trouble. While we find it very entertaining, it is also very worrying.” 

You rolled your eyes. “How am _I_ the most statistically likely? Have you ever met Helena? Do you know how many times I have to pretend I don’t see her snogging her boyfriend on top of the Astronomy Tower every month? A lot! That’s how many times- a fucking lot! I have to _compromise my morals_ for her!” 

Helena laughed. “Morals? What morals?” 

You scrunched up your face in response and pointed at her. “I have several morals! At least five of them.” 

Ophelia snapped her fingers between your bickering faces. “Back to the point! First year, you tried to free the newts in Snape’s office so their eyes wouldn’t be used in potions- at two o’clock in the morning.” 

Before you could retaliate to that blatantly false ( _true_ ) accusation, Violet held up two fingers. “Second year! Rose tripped that annoying kid from Ravenclaw who was obsessed with himself. She got detention for all of her second term, and called it an _accomplishment_.” 

“Hey, that was for the betterment of society! I got a ‘Special Award for Services to the School’ for that!” you exclaimed. Well, a homemade one made by Lockhart’s fifth year classmates, but it did count. At least, in your heart it did. 

“In our third year, you recruited some Gryffindors and younger Hufflepuffs to serenade Dumbledore to Purple Rain, and it wouldn’t have even been the biggest deal, it was a funny idea, but it was just _so_ bad. Like, I love you, but it was worse than the Mandrakes. A few people had to go to the Hospital Wing for _damage to their eardrums._ ” 

You stuck your tongue out. “That one stung a little, Vi.”

She shrugged. “I had to say it. Especially since, even after people applauded enough for you to stop, and get the point, that enough was enough, you kept going. You did all of Prince’s improvisation at the end. It was time to stop. And you just... didn’t.” 

“I had _dedication_!” 

“Fourth year, you somehow convinced someone in every class he had, the Gryffindors in particular were enthusiastic to agree- how strange- to refer to Snape as ‘Snapple’ for the entire day,” Diana said, and you couldn’t help but snort at that one. 

“I don’t regret that one. Snapple is a great drink, and the detentions were worth it,” you stated. 

“Wonder why?” Ophelia muttered, and before you could berate her, Violet gave a sharp jab to her side. You gave her an approving nod, and she returned it solemnly. 

You hid a smile behind Diana’s continued tirade, “Fifth year! Of course, how could one forget that time you had a bloody kip in Snape’s office.” 

You pursed your lips. “I did do that.”

The rest of the girls nodded in agreement. “I mean, she did,” you heard one of them say. 

“On a similar note, there’s that _other_ time you had a kip in his office in sixth year, but you pretended you fell asleep in the Room of Requirement.” Diana looked triumphant.

You thought about it, and yeah, that did happen again, and your friends were too perceptive for their own good. 

“I did that too, huh?” you said, and the aggressive nods that followed made you stifle a bout of laughter. “When the hell did you figure that out?” 

Helena pretended to think by tapping her finger against her chin. “Was it immediately when you walked into the dorm? Or was it when you returned Violet’s hug without protesting?” 

Ophelia began, “It was the hug; at first, she just looked freshly shagged,” you harrumphed, “but then she said the Room of Requirement excuse, when we all knew that she would have just been honest about getting some if it _was_ Bill.”

“And we know that Rose is allergic to body contact.” 

You considered it, and while you did disagree silently ( _dancing with Snape, cuddling with Bill, greeting and parting hugs from your parents_ ), you did accept that you weren’t always the most physically affectionate without prompting by others. 

“Finally, the thrilling conclusion as to why Rose is a danger to herself and others: seventh year, she somehow managed to summon a ghost and then end up unconscious!” Diana exclaimed, and the rest of the girls clapped along sarcastically. 

“You losers were why we did the ritual in the first place!” you nearly shouted. Ophelia knocked the correct rhythm against the barrels to open the common room. It was empty other than two sixth year girls and a lone seventh year boy. You exchanged quick greetings and waves, and the five of you continued to trudge along to your dorm.

After shutting the door, and getting comfortable on the poufs on the floor, Violet proposed, “Or, we could just end this whole list with, ‘Rosaline has been in love with her teacher for three years,’ and be done with it.” 

You froze. 

“Oh, are we doing this now?” Ophelia asked Helena.

Helena responded, “I mean, we don’t have class for another hour, so we might as well.” 

_They knew._

“Two years? How could it be two years? I would’ve been _fifteen_ ,” you counted on your fingers. “No- _sixteen_!” 

“Around that time, definitely. Who sleeps in their teacher’s office if they aren’t in love? We almost debated over whether to call the MoM on him,” Helena admitted, and you choked. 

“The Ministry of Magic!? Why in Merlin's name would you do that?” you exclaimed, and they made disbelieving sounds.

“Don’t you realize how it looks from an outsider’s perspective? You spent time with him outside of class, slept in his office, were the teacher’s pet- Rose, we were worried he was some kind of predator,” Ophelia said, her face screwed up in incredulity.

Diana continued for her, and said, “We only didn’t because after we talked to Dumbledore about it, he said he knew and assured us that he would never allow that sort of misconduct in his school.” 

“You talked to _Dumbledore_ ?” you asked, your bafflement more than evident in your tone. “Before talking to _me_ about whether anything was going on?”

Violet said, “Dumbass, if you were being groomed, then do you think you would tell the truth about whether you were in a relationship with him or not?” 

You frowned. “I mean, probably not, but the point is, I haven’t done anything with him, and I would want you to ask me before going to the headmaster- it’s just the rules of friendship!” 

Helena twitched. “Rose, seriously. We were worried. He’s been accused of being a Death Eater,” at this, you bristled, but she kept going, “and he’s a dick to everyone else but you. Like, since we were fifteen he’s been giving you _special treatment_ , in regards to detention or point loss, or whatever.” 

“You slept in his office.”

“You sent him letters over the summer.” 

“You hung out with him after class, on the weekends.” 

You made a disgusted sound. “Oh, god, I didn’t even think about how awful that would be to see from the outside perspective.” And, damn, they were right; how _creepy_ your interactions with Snape now seemed. “I’m telling the truth when I say this- nothing ever happened.” 

The almost-kiss didn’t happen, so, no need to dredge it back up. 

“On the same note, as I have decided from my conversation with Dumbledore earlier, I am now going to commence: ‘Plan Ignore Severus Snape.’ Which, I know, not as clever as my other plan names-” 

Ophelia cut you off, “Most basic plan name I’ve ever heard! It’s not good.” She shook her head.

“Thank you for your constructive criticism, Ophelia. But, I will be keeping it because the anagram is ‘PISS,’ and I find that to be very funny.” 

A smattering of considering noises sprung up, and you took a mock bow.

“Yes, I am very clever,” this caused a series of skeptical hums to start up, but you continued, “Besides, the actual details of the plan are more important than the plan name- I will now be trying my best to limit interaction with Snape to as little as possible. Just… the only thing that I’m concerned about is that I will want to immediately dissolve into apologies as soon as I see him.” 

Violet raised an eyebrow. “And what would you need to apologize to him for?”

Immediately accusing Snape of being this horrible person, when you knew he had changed, for one. 

Trying to forgive actions of his that didn’t even affect you personally, invading his space for seven years. 

You rolled your eyes, but a slightly self deprecating smile tugged on the left side of your mouth. “I’m trying to convince myself that I, actually, do not need to- at least, not for what I think I need to apologize to him for.” 

\- 

Your master plan to give Snape space and, thus, time, would have to commence that same day, because, of course, nothing could be simple, and Potions would be your first class back after you accidentally called a soul to the mortal world. 

Of course it would!

Following your conversation with your friends, you attempted to do some homework to take your mind off of everything and ate a lunch that immediately turned into lead in your stomach as the clock ticked closer to one. The walk to Potions, with Vi and Diana giving you encouraging (but, ouch, _hard_ ) pushes in the direction of the classroom, shifted to the pace of a funeral march. 

Though you just had to suck it up, and do it. 

You took a deep breath, turned the corner, and stepped into the Potions classroom like nothing was out of the ordinary. Snape was writing the instructions of the Potion on the chalkboard, and that’s how you immediately knew he was feeling out of sorts as well. He would typically just cast a duplication spell from his lesson plans to the board, and then stare at the students walking in like a predator stalking its prey. 

In a way, you were comforted by the fact that he was just as, if not more so, uneased by the events of the past few days. But, mostly, you just felt more discouraged that you had _fucked_ things up so badly by being mad that he didn’t tell you his past. All you wanted to do was beg for his forgiveness, tell him that his life before you met him was his to share, and that you wanted to go back to normal. 

Yet, what even was normal for the two of you? Nothing about your friendship was normal. 

Everything. Was. Shit. 

You hurried to your desk and took out your quill, inkwell, and textbook. 

“Are you alright?” Claudia, one of your friends in your class, asked you. She tried to maintain eye contact while she pulled out her own supplies from her school satchel, but in doing so, she kept pulling out the wrong things from her bag. You tried to bite down your smile, and your heart felt a bit lighter.

“I’m fine, just magic bullshit- what else could it have been? But now, I am ready to learn! I love school so much, I couldn't bear to miss another day!” You tried to sound eager, and totally not sarcastic, but you must’ve failed because she just swatted the hand you had resting on the parchment that kept rolling back up. 

The rest of the class filed in while you (pretended to) organize your school materials, and, all too soon yet eternities later, Snape turned around. 

“Settle down, those of you in the back. Silence!” he barked out, and you honestly couldn’t tell a difference based on his tone that anything was amiss. He stood menacingly with his arms crossed, though his hair a bit more lank than usual. He wasn’t exactly avoiding your eyes, but he certainly wasn’t meeting them, either. He just looked across the expanse of students with cool indifference. “The instructions for the potion are on the board. This will be done individually, so no talking is necessary. That means do. Not. Talk. Talking will result in an immediate deduction of five points. Am I clear?” 

_Yes sir’s_ of varying enthusiasm broke out amongst the class. He nodded sharply, and turned back to his desk, sat, and immediately began grading papers, or writing, or whatever it was he was doing. 

You, along with the dozen or so other students, gathered your ingredients, retreated to the lab tables in the back of the classroom, and began preparing your potions. 

_Essence of Insanity_ , the board read. How wonderfully school appropriate. 

It was times like these that you questioned the curriculum of Hogwarts. Why would you ever need to know how to brew the _Essence of Insanity_? Similarly, why would you need to know how to transfigure a butterfly into a blanket? Or how to tame a wild bowtruckle? 

This questioning of the Hogwarts school system was your mental soundtrack to your precise chopping, crushing, and mixing. Casting quick gazes to Snape, only every ten minutes or so, definitely not at every free moment, you saw that he was working as usual. He walked around to observe the cauldrons, at one point, but as it was a NEWT level class, he was primarily hands-off. You faintly heard his quill slash through some poor student’s essay, but generally, all seemed to be well. 

That didn’t disappoint you- no, not at all, and what a horrible accusation to make!

Either too quickly, or perhaps too late, your potion turned the acidic green it was supposed to. You checked the temperature, and when you were sure it wouldn’t warp or break the glass of the vial ( _“Because spelling the glass unbreakable would allow students to slack off, and they do that enough, anyway,”_ Snape had told you, once), and funneled it carefully. You stoppered the vial with a bit of cork and sealed it with a ring of wax around the outside.

Looking around, you saw that most students were a step or two behind, and as it did _not_ do to be the only one in the actual classroom portion of the room while everyone else was in the lab, you methodically cleaned your work station by hand. 

But, you could only pretend to scrub for so many minutes. You glanced quickly at Claudia’s lab table, and saw that she was only then placing the thermometer in her cauldron. You stifled a groan of impatience.

Giving the table one last wipe, you grabbed your wand and the completed potion, and briskly walked to Snape’s desk. He remained fixated on the parchment in front of him. You added the vial to the stand.

He did not look up, though his hand did twitch a bit, and a drop of red ink stained the essay.

You walked back to your desk and thumped your head against the wood with a bit more force than intended. 

_Ow_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with this chapter, i tried to acknowledge everything i wanted to in regards to power dynamics (+ teacher/student relationships and a bit of discussion on grooming), shitty war things, and more fun stuff like that, so i hope it wasn’t like, too much for fanfiction. felt pretty important though, especially for a fic like mine that does begin with themes of romance in school, while one party is a student and the other is a teacher. 
> 
> the chapter title's song, hate myself by dodie, is literally their anthem- if you haven’t heard it?? what are you doing?? I AM SO EXCITED FOR ‘BUILD A PROBLEM’ OKAY. also, thanks to all of those youtube playlists that are like, ‘you rule the kingdom because you just poisoned your husband, the king,’ bc those got me through this behemoth update
> 
> dumbledore is a textbook grey character. he is extremely bad in some bits, but extremely good in others; same with severus. on that note: she WILL eventually call him severus. if it’s killing you to read her call him snape, just know it’s killing me more to write it.
> 
> and, finally, i hope it is obvious that we are moving out of that more fun, joke-y tone that was going on for a while. Serious Things are going to begin to happen in chapters from now on. still bits and gags, of course, but yeah- it’s gonna get real. 
> 
> good on you for reading all that! i hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you thought :)


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